


I May Fall

by Neptunium134



Category: Midsomer Murders - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Brother-Sister Relationships, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Happy Ending, Hospitals, Hurt Jamie Winter, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Injured Jamie Winter, One Big Happy Family, Past Child Abuse, Stabbing, Suicidal Thoughts, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neptunium134/pseuds/Neptunium134
Summary: "John couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.There was a commotion going on all around him, shouting and yelling, something breaking, but all of John’s attention was on his young sergeant in his arms."Jamie is injured on a case and John is worried
Relationships: John Barnaby & Jamie Winter, John Barnaby/Sarah Barnaby
Comments: 44
Kudos: 34





	1. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME TO A NEW ANGST FEST
> 
> This is my second Midsomer fic, and of course it's a Jamie angst, what else?
> 
> It shouldn't be too long of a fic, hopefully, but it isn't planned (what's new?), so who knows?
> 
> But I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

John couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t _breathe_.

There was a commotion going on all around him, shouting and yelling, something breaking, but all of John’s attention was on his young sergeant in his arms.

Jamie’s head lolled against John’s chest, his eyes, teary and unfocused, were half-closed, his breathing switching between short, raspy gasps and barely-there breaths.

Blood had soaked through Jamie’s shirt and jacket, sticking the fabric to his skin. John could feel it through his trousers and he worried Jamie was losing too much blood, that he might go into shock.

If Jamie went into shock-

“Someone call an ambulance!” He yelled, not taking his eyes off Jamie, who looked like he was about to drift into unconsciousness.

“Winter, keep your eyes on me,” John demanded. “Keep your eyes open and keep them on me.”

Jamie pried his eyelids open. “Sir…” He coughed, blood dribbling down his chin. John stiffened, wiping it away with his sleeve.

“Save your breath, Winter. Don’t talk, just keep your eyes open and focus on me.”

  
“I’m… s-sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Winter. You didn’t know what was going to happen, it’s not your fault.” 

He could still hear the sound of the gun firing, the echo of the shot ricocheting around his head, the sound of ripping flesh as the bullet tore through his sergeant’s side, the absolute _terror_ he felt as Jamie collapsed, him running forward to catch Jamie before he fell, the uniform officers chasing after the suspect as John gently lowered Jamie to the ground.

Jamie coughed again, doubling over in pain and tears streaming down his cheeks, his normally pale skin an ashen grey.

John moved his hand from where it was cradling Jamie’s head to wipe away the tears from his cheeks.

“You’ll be okay Jamie, the ambulance is coming, you can hear the sirens, just keep your eyes on me, Jamie.”

A small smile graced Jamie’s face. “You… ca-called me Jamie.”

Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body went limp.

John’s heart stopped.

“Jamie? Jamie? Winter, open your eyes. Winter!”

Jamie’s eyes stayed closed.

John pressed his fingers against Jamie’s neck, feeling for a pulse.

_Thump……. Thump……. Thump……. Thump……._

It was there, the beats weak and far between, but it was _there_.

Jamie was still alive. 

John let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Jamie was still alive, he was still losing blood, but he was alive, and the sirens were getting louder, getting closer.

Voices pulled him out of his trance, calling his name.

“DCI Barnaby? Sir?”

“Huh, yes?” He unwillingly turned his head towards the officer.

“We’ve got Mr Reeves, sir, should we take him into custody?”

“Yes, and add attempted murder of DS Jamie Winter to the list of charges, would you?”

“Of course sir.” And with that, the officer was gone.

An ear-piercing wail filled Barnaby’s ears and soon he was being pried away from Jamie was the paramedics lifted his sergeant onto a wheeled stretcher and pushed it to the ambulance.

He stayed kneeling for a moment, letting the events sink in, the sodden ground of the forest soaking his trousers. He brought his hands, still covered in Jamie’s blood, up to his face, letting out a shuddery breath. 

A sob rose in this throat and he pressed a palm to his mouth to muffle the sound. His shoulders shook and tears dripped onto the forest floor, already stained with Jamie’s blood and damp from the rain.

Someone grabbed his shoulder, helping him up to his feet and guiding him towards the ambulance.

He was sat in the back of the ambulance, a shock blanket draped over his shoulders and a mug of hot tea pressed into his hands.

In front of him lay Jamie, still unconscious, on the stretcher, with two paramedics working on him, speaking so quickly all John could hear was babble.

A person came into his vision, their mouth moving and John turned his focus to them.

“-r. -ir. Sir, can you hear me?” The paramedic asked.

John nodded.

“Can you tell me your name?”

John blinked.

“I thought you knew who we were?”

“Standard shock procedure. Can you tell me your name?”

“DCI John Barnaby.”

“Who is the casualty?”

“DS Jamie Winter.”

“What’s today’s date?”

“21st September 2020.”

“What colour is a stop sign?”

“Bright red.”

The conversation went back and forth until they reached the hospital.

A team of medical workers were waiting for them, and as soon as the ambulance had stopped, the doors were opened and Jamie was wheeled away to surgery.

A nurse helped John out of the ambulance and manoeuvred him towards a waiting area. Another nurse took away the mug he’d been holding and handed him a wet wipe.

John scrubbed his hands of Jamie’s blood as best he could, red still caked under his fingernails and in the cuticles. He threw the wipe in the bin and fished out his phone.

He needed Sarah, he needed her support.


	2. An Empire’s Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John hasn't called and Sarah's worried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here's part 2!
> 
> It's not as long, just linking Sarah to the events and bringing her into the story, really.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Sarah frowned at the clock.

It was 7:30, and John wasn’t home.

Which usually wasn’t a problem, but this today she hadn’t heard anything from John, and he normally called ahead to tell her he was working late and not to leave a plate for him because he’d sent Jamie to pick up pizzas and not to wait up for him since he didn’t know when he’d been getting back.

But not this time.

She’d rung him, but the phone went to voicemail.

Assuming he was in the middle of something that meant he couldn’t talk, she instead fed Betty, bathed her and got her ready to bed. Once the toddler was asleep, she rang her husband again, but, as before, the phone went to voicemail.

Sarah bit her lip, tapping her fingers against the table as she waited for the kettle to boil. She thought a nice cup of tea would calm her nerves, but the silence of the house with just the whistling of the kettle giving off any sort of noise just heightened her anxiety.

Her phone rang suddenly, scaring her out of her skin. The loud ringtone caused Paddy to start barking, which awoke Betty.

Sarah grabbed her phone and quickly answered it when she saw John’s caller ID.

“John, oh my God I was so worried, you always call, where are you, why didn’t you call?” She rushed out in one breath, a million questions playing out in her head.

Was John okay? Why was he only just calling now? Why didn’t he call before? What had been doing? What about Jamie? Why hadn’t Jamie called, if John couldn’t?

She heard her husband inhale deeply. “Could you come to Causton General Hospital? Jamie’s been shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CLIFFHANGER TIME!
> 
> Welp, hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	3. Casablanca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah and John wait in the hospital with no news on Jamie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I wasn't expecting this to get the attention it has, thank you all so much!
> 
> Special thanks to midsomer4life for being my test reader!

John sat in the waiting room, head in his hands.

He was shaking, from the cold or the fear of losing Jamie, he couldn’t tell, but he was shaking, trembling so hard the blanket around his shoulders was almost falling off.

Jamie had been taken directly into surgery as soon as the ambulance arrived, almost two hours ago, and John hadn’t heard anything about his sergeant since.

He was terrified, what was going on? What were they doing? Why was it taking so long? What if-

What if Jamie didn’t make it? What if they lost him? What if they were too late, John was too late?

He didn’t know if he could cope with that.

It was strange; he’d never really felt this way about any of his other sergeants, any of them- Midsomer or Brighton- yet, there was something about Jamie that made John want to wrap him up in cotton wool and protect him.

The same way he felt about Betty…

  
  


A hand was laid on his shoulder and he looked up.

His eyes met Sarah’s, and his wife pulled him into a hug.

She didn’t say anything, there was nothing to be said. They just stayed there, sitting in silence, just holding each other tight, both praying that Jamie would be okay.

They sat in silence for another hour, John quietly crying into Sarah’s shoulder.

A doctor came out of one of the operation theatres and looked around the room.   
“Mr Wilks?” She called, walking out into the waiting room. She stopped in front of John and Sarah. “Are you waiting for Mr Wilks?”

“No-” Sarah started, but the nurse had already moved on, still calling for Mr Wilks' visitors.

Sarah bit her lip and turned her attention back to her husband. John had stopped crying, but his eyes were still red and wet with tears, tear tracks still marked his face and his cheeks puffy.

She knew how he felt, not entirely, but Jamie was still dear to her. She may not have the pleasure of working with him every day, seeing him do his job day-in, day-out, but John did drag him back to the Barnaby’s every evening if they weren’t on a case, and Sarah insisted on Jamie and Fleur coming round for Sunday dinner each week.   
Betty had taken to Jamie as well, despite her hesitance around him at first. She now demanded he babysit her when John and Sarah went out because, according to Betty, “Uncle Jamie is the best Elsa”, which was just too darn cute for Sarah to pass up. Jamie always complained they made him spend a fortune on Disney+, but they knew he loved spending time with Betty, even that one time they woke him up in the middle of the night to ask if he could keep an eye on Betty for a few hours while they went to see Sarah’s mum in hospital. 

Jamie had agreed, of course, and when Sarah picked Betty up from school later that day, Betty had been beaming, excitedly chatting about what she’d done at Jamie’s and how all her friends were amazed that her 'uncle' was a detective as well.

It was scary to think the same man she’d come to view as a son, someone she trusted her daughter with, was in a room somewhere within these four walls with people working to save his life. It was scary to think that Jamie Winter, one of the funniest, kindest, smartest people she ever knew, was lying in a bed somewhere with doctors performing surgery on him. It was scary to think that they might lose him, that Jamie might die

It was scary.

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to level herself to no avail. She was _petrified_. They couldn’t lose Jamie, not now, not when they just got him back.

John shifted under her grasp, raising his head to meet her gaze.

“I don’t want to lose him, Sarah. I _can’t_ lose him, I-”

“I know.” Sarah hushed, running her hands through John’s messy, sweaty hair. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little less of a cliffhanger this time, you'll be pleased to know
> 
> I'll try and get the next part written and up tomorrow, but no promises, don't hold it against me, heh.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	4. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sarah finally get news on Jamie and visit his bedside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neptunium's back on her bullshit, I see

It was another half hour until a nurse came out of another theatre, looking around the waiting room.

“Mr Winter?” She called and instantly John lept up, dragging Sarah with him.

“Yes, we’re here for Ja- Mr Winter. Is he okay?”

The nurse nodded at them to follow her, John and Sarah stumbling to keep up.

“Mr Winter was a lucky man. The bullet missed his pancreas but it nipped his kidney and shattered two of his ribs. Mr Parsons, the main surgeon operating on Mr Winter, was able to fix the kidney and reset the ribs and stop the internal bleeding. There’s no obvious damage to his lungs or heart, but with the massive amount of blood loss, we can’t be sure so we’re keeping him in the ICU for the next few days for monitoring. He’s still under anaesthetic and we’ll need to keep him sedated for a few days.”

The nurse opened the door to a small room off the main ICU corridor, letting John and Sarah in first before moving over to the monitors next to the bed.

John and Sarah stopped short upon seeing Jamie. 

His face had lost all colour and was almost as white as the sheets of the bed he was laying in, tubes and wires were attached to almost every visible part of his body, a heart monitor was obnoxiously beeping off to the side somewhere, an IV line drip-fed fluids into his body and a feeding tube was inserted up his nose.

John pressed a hand to his mouth, tears once again appearing in his eyes. It didn’t feel right, Jamie shouldn’t look like this. Jamie should be at his desk, stuffing his face with cake, joking about or running after suspects, solving murder cases, not… this.

Not stuck in a hospital bed, unconscious and sedated. Not with death pounding on his door, a welcome basket in hand. Not looking like the child he was, so young, too young to be in this position, to be fighting for his life.

The nurse made some notes and left, leaving John and Sarah in the room with Jamie.

Sarah was the first to move, walking over to the bed and taking Jamie’s hand in her own, brushing some stray strands of hair out of his face.

“Oh, Jamie…” she breathed, watching the way Jamie’s nose twitched, eyelids fluttering in his sleep.

John moved over to the other side of the bed, placing a hand on Jamie’s cheek, feeling the warmth underneath his hand, Jamie’s warm breath hitting his palm.

The DCI allowed himself to relax a little. Jamie was still alive, still breathing, his heart was still beating, the loud beeping of the ECG wouldn’t let John forget that.

The door opened and a tall man of about thirty, from Latino origins with dark brown hair and hazel eyes, wearing the green scrubs of a surgeon walked in.

“You must be Mr and Mrs Barnaby, Mr Winter’s emergency contacts,” he held his hand out to John, who shook it, before doing the same with Sarah. “I’m Mr Parsons, the lead surgeon on Mr Winter. I believe you have been informed of his condition?”

“Yes, just a few minutes ago, actually.” Sarah nodded.

“We’re monitoring him carefully, he’s still in a critical condition, but as long as he makes it through tonight, he should be fine. When he wakes up we’ll need to check for any brain damage, but with the speed he was brought here, I’d say it’s unlikely there’ll be much damage. We’re expecting a full recovery.”

John let out a sigh of relief.

“He’ll stay in the ICU until he wakes up, then we’ll move him to a ward until he’s well enough to be dismissed, then he’ll be on bedrest for at least a week and we’ll see from there. He’ll have to stay with someone in case of any complications. As his emergency contacts, do you know anyone who’ll be able to look after him?”

“We will.” John said, looking up from Jamie’s bedside. “We can look after him.”

Mr Parsons nodded. “You can stay as long as you like, but there will be nurses regularly monitoring him. We will update you of any issues or changes.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Sarah said.

With one last glance towards Jamie and a final nod to the Barnabys, Mr Parsons exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him to return privacy to the room.

Sarah moved two chairs to Jamie’s bedside, John flopping into one and retaking Jamie’s hand in his.

“I hope you don’t mind,” John started, running his thumb over Jamie’s knuckles. “About us looking after Jamie. I don’t know if he has anyone else nearby, except maybe Fleur, I’ll need to check his next of kin details tomorrow.”

“If you didn’t say it, I would. I’d much rather Jamie stay with us, and I know Betty will be pleased to have him around, even if it is just in the spare bedroom.”

The church clock in the distance chimed 11, the bells  pealing  in stark contrast to the knell that had rung an hour before.

“As much as I would love to stay here, I don’t think there’s much more we can do, and someone has work in the morning,” Sarah said, getting up from her chair. John reluctantly did the same, the two putting their coats on in a comfortable silence and sliding the chairs back to the side of the room.

John gave one last glance to Jamie’s form in the hospital bed before following his wife out of the ICU and towards the car park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *googles how to treat gunshot wounds and organs on the left side of the body*
> 
> My FBI agent: This is the 8th thing to do with murder this girl has googled in the past three days, what is going on?


	5. Save Me From the Darkness and Illuminate My Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie wakes up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> Maybe slight warning for a panic attack? It's not full-on, but Jamie does start to panic, and if you're uncomfortable with that maybe skip that part? I don't think it's a lot, but be safe guys.

Jamie Winter opened his eyes.

Instantly he shut them again.

_Bright, too bright, what was bright?_ His thoughts were as sluggish as he felt, his brain not quite accustomed to being used.

He slowly pried his eyes open again, eyelids once again fluttering closed in an attempt to block out the brightness. He let out a small groan, head turning away from the luminosity.

There was a small gasp beside him and within a second a loud, blaring alarm rang in his ears. He let out a whine of protest and tried to bury himself into what he assumed was a pillow beneath his head.

“Mr Winter, can you open your eyes for me?” A voice asked and Jamie made one last attempt to pry his eyes open, the brightness not seeming so… bright anymore.

A face filled his vision- one he didn’t recognise. Jamie let out a small cry, attempting to shuffle away. Hands grabbed his arms, holding him down, only serving to panic him even more. He thrashed about in the hold, garbled noises escaping his mouth.

“Jamie, Jamie, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe.”

That voice… he knew that voice.

He turned his head, coming face-to-face with his boss, John’s blue eyes meeting his own. 

John was here, John wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him, he was okay.

Jamie let himself relax, and the grip on his arms loosened. 

John ran a hand through Jamie’s hair, whispering encouragements as the people around the bed did… whatever it was they were doing. Jamie didn’t know, and at this point, he didn’t care- he was too tired, his stomach ached and his brain felt sluggish. 

John was here, John would keep him safe, John wouldn’t mind if he took a nap-

“Jamie, Jamie, stay awake.”

Jamie let out a moan. He was tired, he just wanted to sleep, why couldn’t he sleep?

He turned his head to glare at John as best he could, fatigue making his actions lethargic.

There was a shuffle of movement, the hands holding him down were gone and there was the sound of a door opening.

Jamie tore his eyes away from John’s to look at where he was.

He was lying down, head propped up by a collection of pillows behind his head, something was letting off an annoying beeping sound to his right and his arm itched. He looked down and saw a line going into his arm, connected to a drip?

Oh, he was in the hospital.

…

That explained a lot.

He turned back to John, who had a mixture of relief and concern on his face. 

What was he concerned about? John wasn’t normally concerned, not unless someone was in imminent danger.

But that didn’t make sense, he was fine. Sure, he was in a hospital, but hospitals were good, right? It wasn’t like he was bleeding out on the floor of Priory Wood-

Oh.

That’s why John was concerned. Priory Woods. Yeah, that happened.

But, he was safe, right? No danger here. No Reeves here, no gun, just doctors and nurses and drugs…

His head fell back against the pillow, his brain finally catching up with his thoughts. He was doped up on morphine, probably. No wonder he was all over the place.

He felt hands in his hair and he looked back at John, frowning at the tears he could see gathering in the DCI’s eyes.

“Sir?” His voice was raspy, gritty like stones rubbing on stones.

“Shh, Jamie, don’t talk. Save your voice.” John said, hand still combing through Jamie’s hair, gently massaging his scalp.

Jamie leaned back into the touch. “Why are you crying?”

John let out a soft laugh, resting his forehead on Jamie’s. “I was so scared.”

He pulled back, pressing a kiss to Jamie’s forehead. “I thought we’d lost you, you weren’t moving, you weren’t breathing, there was nothing. You were in surgery for hours, there was no news, we didn’t even know if you were _alive_.”

Jamie felt his boss’ breath hitch, as if he was crying. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, so that was why… but why? Why was John so upset? He’d surely been in this position before, right? In the twenty-odd years he’d been a police officer, there was no way John hadn’t been in a situation similar to this.

“But... why?” He stifled a groan of pain as he shifted his hips a little, pain flaring up in his torso.

“Why what?” John asked.

“Why were you scared?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Haven’t you done this before, with your other sergeants?”

“No, never like this. There’s been incidents, yes, but not like this.”

“Like… this?”

“Personal. None have been personal.”

“Personal?”

John let out a short laugh. “I seriously hope this is the morphine clouding your brain and not you being blind.”

“Sir?”

“Jamie, you are more than a sergeant, you’re a friend. Well, more like a son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES I AM TAKING THIS ROUTE, I AM TAKING THE DAD JOHN ROUTE I DO NOT APOLOGISE
> 
> Big thanks to @midsomer4life for test-reading this and screaming down my WattsApp, thanks hun!


	6. We Don't Know What Will Follow, Until We're Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie wakes up and John is relieved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get the last chapter from John's POV
> 
> This seems to be a regular occurrence with me...
> 
> Anyway, same warnings as the last chapter if you need them- mention of a panic attack.

It had been three days since Jamie had been shot, and those three days had been the scariest of John’s life.

Not that he’d admit it to anyone.

Well, maybe Sarah. Sarah would understand, she saw Jamie as a son as well.

Jamie was still unconscious, kept subdued by a mix of morphine and oxycodone fed through the drip.

John settled into the chair next to Jamie’s bed, gently taking Jamie’s hand in his own. It always made him feel better, though he couldn’t put his finger on exactly _why_. 

Why did he feel more secure when he could physically feel his sergeant’s hand in his? Why could he breathe easier when he could feel Jamie’s pulse beating steadily under his fingertips? Why did he feel more grounded when Jamie was right next to him, where he could see what was happening?

He wasn’t exactly sure.

Okay, that was a lie. He knew exactly why he felt like that.

Jamie was more than a co-worker or a colleague, more than a sergeant, than a partner. He was family, a son.

He knew Sarah felt so too, and Betty had already taken to calling him ‘Uncle Jamie’. It didn’t feel right not having Jamie around at the end of the day, and Betty had started asking questions, none of which were partially easy to answer, and they couldn’t tell their 5-year-old the man she saw an uncle could die any moment.

He was yanked out of his thoughts by Jamie’s hand tensing and twitching. He turned his head to look at Jamie as the young man opened his eyes, instantly shutting them to block out the fluorescent lighting of the hospital room.

John let out an instinctive gasp, and quickly hit the nurse call button, the alarm blaring throughout the room.

He was tugged away from Jamie by nurses and stood, awkwardly, to the side as the healthcare professionals rushed around the bed, charting data from the machines, a doctor was leaning over the bedrail, a small torch in hand, attempting to look at Jamie’s pupils.

“Mr Winter, can you open your eyes for me?” The doctor asked, and John saw Jamie’s eyelids finally open fully.

There was a pause for a second, then Jamie started to thrash about in his bed. The nurses grabbed his flailing arms and legs, holding him down. Jamie jerked more, letting out muffled sobs and garbled noises that broke John’s heart.

He gently pushed between two nurses, running his hand through Jamie’s curls.

“Jamie, Jamie, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe.” He whispered.

Jamie’s head turned to face him, his eyes meeting Jamie’s light blue eyes.

He bit down on a sob, finally getting to see those blue orbs he feared he would never see again.

For three nights he was terrified he would never get to look his sergeant in the eye again, he was scared he would get a telephone call from the hospital saying Jamie had died, petrified that the next body on Fleur’s mortuary table would be Jamie’s.

But to see those blue eyes finally open, looking at him, John could finally relax. Jamie would be okay, Jamie was alive, _awake_.

Jamie went limp on the bed and the nurses loosened their grip on him.

John continued to comb his hand through Jamie’s hair, whispering in his ear anything that would keep Jamie calm, gently massaging his scalp. 

He noticed Jamie’s eyes slipping closed and gently tapped his cheek.

“Jamie, Jamie, stay awake.”

Jamie let out a moan and turned his head to give John a glare, eyes still cloudy and unfocused, his movements sluggish and slow.

The nurses drew away finally and left the room, leaving John and Jamie in silence.

John watched as Jamie observed his surroundings, having taken his hand off Jamie’s hair as Jamie looked around the room, light slowly returning to his eyes. 

He felt tears fill his eyes, out of sorrow or relief he didn’t know. 

His fingers threaded themselves through Jamie’s hair again, causing the DS to tilt his head towards John.

“Sir?” Jamie croaked, voice rough from disuse.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t the best thing John had heard in a long time.

“Shh, Jamie, don’t talk. Save your voice.” John whispered, hand still combing through Jamie’s hair, greasy and still matted with dried blood.

He smiled as Jamie leaned back into the touch. “Why are you crying?”

He felt a laugh bubble in his throat and he rested his forehead on Jamie’s. “I was so scared.”

To be fair, “scared” would be an understatement. He felt as if his world was falling apart bit by bit, days and nights spent worrying Jamie might not pull through, that he would lose someone he’d come to view as a son, that they’d get that phone call and have to explain to Betty that Jamie was gone, never coming back.

He pulled back, pressing a kiss to Jamie’s forehead. “I thought we’d lost you, you weren’t moving, you weren’t breathing, there was nothing. You were in surgery for hours, there was no news, we didn’t even know if you were _alive_.”

John finally let the tears fall, forehead still resting on Jamie’s.

“But... why?” Jamie whispered.

John pulled back in surprise. “Why what?”

“Why were you scared?”

‘ _Why wouldn’t I be?_ ’ John thought. 

“What do you mean why?” He asked, fully pulling away from Jamie to look him in the eyes.

“Haven’t you done this before, with your other sergeants?”

John frowned. “No, never like this. There’s been incidents, yes, but not like this.”

“Like… this?” Jamie rasped.

“Personal. None have been personal.”

Because that’s what it was. The moment Reeves fired that gun and shot Jamie, it became personal,

“Personal?”

John let out a short laugh. “I seriously hope this is the morphine clouding your brain and not you being blind.”

“Sir?”

‘ _No_ _point beating around the bush now._ ’ John thought. 

“Jamie, you are more than a sergeant, you’re a friend. Well, more like a son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chanting*
> 
> DAD JOHN DAD JOHN DAD JOHN DAD JOHN DAD JOHN
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading this! I love the responses I'm getting, you're all too kind!
> 
> (ALSO I HAVE THE LIGHT PRINCESS SOUNDTRACK ON SPOTIFY AND I AM SO HAPPY YES)


	7. Love Isn't Just Another Lullaby, It's a Butterfly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie reflects on what John has said

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chap, sorry guys, but I think I would've been murdered if I'd done the timeskip for this chapter without giving Jamie a reaction.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Jamie blinked- once, twice.

… _What?_

Did John just say what he thought he said?

  
  


Jamie had never really thought about their relationship like that. Sure, he was closer to John than any of the other DI and DCIs he worked with before moving to Midsomer, but he saw it more of a working relationship strengthened through various life-threatening situations, coverted bonding exercises and the intense murder cases Midsomer was famous for.

It wasn’t ‘England’s deadliest county’ for nothing, often the death toll was higher than the actual population despite thrill-seekers and those wanting to live somewhere quiet settling in the area.

  
  


But for John to see him as a son…

There must be weight to that, it wasn’t something John would throw out casually.

Jamie’s head hit the pillow, thoughts racing around his head.

  
  


He wasn’t sure what to think. 

Even his own parents hadn’t treated him like he was part of the family, just the by-product of a drunken night that ended up ruining their holidays by being born on Christmas day.

His brothers never let him live it down. It was the same every year for eighteen years of his life.

The minute he could, he was out of that house, going to university on the other side of the country to his parents. Sure, he could’ve gone to Cambridge, like his brother Matthew, but it was far too close to where his parents lived, instead deciding to go to university in Bath.

But John wouldn’t lie, would he? He never had before, why start now?

  
  


Thoughts swirled around in Jamie’s head like water down a drain. He couldn’t think, he was too exhausted.

“When the doctors discharge you, you’ll be staying with us until the doctors are convinced you can live on your own. I’ll pop round to your house later and pick up some of your things. You’ll be on bedrest for at least a week, the doctors said, and I don’t want you coming to work until you’re cleared.” John stated. “I’d say you’re allowed to do light paperwork if you’re bored, but I doubt Betty would allow that.”

Jamie cracked a smile. “Guess I’d better start learning more Disney songs, Sir.”

“That’s the spirit, Winter.” John ruffled his hair. “I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

He got up and pulled his jacket on, pressing a kiss to Jamie’s forehead and leaving the room.

Jamie smiled slightly, snuggling down into the covers and closing his eyes, falling asleep in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TIMESKIP TIME-
> 
> Hold tight guys, we're only scraping the surface of what this pile of bullshit has to offer.


	8. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie is released from the hospital and the Barnabys take him home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I must have gotten the orders messed up. I was asked for fluff, but you've got Dad John with a side helping of ANGST.
> 
> Oh well, hope you enjoy it anyway!

A few weeks later, on the first day of December, Jamie was being guided through the corridors of Causton General Hospital, John on one side and Sarah on the other, little Betty clutching his left hand in a death-like grip.

Off-duty staff and volunteers smiled and waved at John, having seen him in the hospital several times for various reasons, and cooed over Betty before going back to hanging up the Christmas decorations.

Betty led Jamie through the car park towards John’s car, still gripping his hand, excitedly chatting away about anything and everything under the sun. John unlocked the car and opened the door nearest to Jamie, helping him into the car while Sarah strapped Betty into her car seat.

The drive home was quiet, filled only by Betty’s continued blabber about what her primary school were going to be doing over the last two weeks of the term, mostly Christmas-related activities by the sounds of it and the Year One and Two nativity play on the last day, in which Betty got to play one of the main camels.

John parked the car outside the house, helping Jamie out of the car and wrapping Jamie’s left arm over his shoulder. Sarah had unlocked the door and took Betty inside, helping the young girl take off her shoes and jacket while John guided Jamie towards the spare room, settling him down on the bed and slipping off his shoes and pulling the jacket off his shoulders, despite the sergeant’s protests he could do it himself, and steadied Jamie as the younger shifted to tuck his feet under the covers.

Jamie winced in pain as pain flared up in his abdomen, gritting his teeth shuffling down the bed until he was half-laying, half-propped up by pillows.

John helped him sit up, assisted by the pillows and handed him a glass of water and two paracetamol tablets. 

Sarah walked in a few moments later, a bowl of tomato soup, a soft bread roll and a mug of green tea on a tray. She placed them on the dresser and left the room to sort out lunch for Betty.

Jamie gulped down the paracetamol and John passed him the tray.

The DS gave John a nervous smile. “I’m not really hungry, sir, but thanks anyway.”

“Nonsense Winter, you’ve barely eaten today and hospital meals are slight in serving. You must be starving.”

Jamie grimaced slightly. He  _ really  _ didn’t want to eat, but he couldn’t actually tell his boss that, especially when Sarah went to the trouble of preparing it.

He let out a breath and put a spoonful of soup in his mouth, gaging his boss’ reaction.

The flavour of tomato soup exploded on his tongue, the temperature scorching hot compared to the usual granola bar he shovelled down for energy.

It wasn’t he had an eating disorder- maybe some people saw it that way, but he didn’t care about his weight. It’s not like it mattered, any weight he put on was immediately burned off running after suspects and criminals and the like.

It was just… well, habit, in a way. He never got much food growing up, usually the scrapings of the pot and a few carrot sticks for lunch at school while his brothers were fed with the best roast pork their mother could buy, trimmings and all.   
Christmas was the worst, with both sets of his grandparents around, it was easy to blame the lack of food on his plate on there being too many people to feed, or his father usually liked to claim Jamie’d eaten too many sweets from his stocking before lunch (never minding the fact Jamie’s stocking was usually a few pens nicked from his mother’s office and a gone-off satsuma).

That, and his parents usually ‘forgot’ it was his birthday.

To be fair, most people did. Christmas was such a busy time, people buying presents and cards for friends and family, buying and putting up trees and lights and decorations, planning visits to family on the other side of the country, supermarkets heaving with people trying to get enough food to feed the small army going round their house for lunch, or trying to find that perfect bottle of bubbly to take to lunch.    
It really wasn’t much of a surprise people forgot. He started forgetting about it himself as well, throughout school and uni, never mentioning his birthday to his friends or flat-mates, barely remembering his age half the time.

John would probably have some sort of fancy psychological term for it, but it was just never important to Jamie.

Much like eating. He didn’t see much point in eating too much. Food was useful for converting carbohydrates and lipids into energy, and that was about it.

He didn't have an eating disorder, and that was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, already have gunshot wounds and ICU units in my history, better add medicine dosages, eating disorders and depression to that and get put on a mental health watchlist (if I'm not so already, the amount of whump I read and write, heh)
> 
> Sorry it's a bit short, it was actually part of what is now chapter 9, but I split them due to the shift in POVs, so I'll post chapter 9 at the same time to make up for it.


	9. I Wish That Life Came with Instructions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John reflects on some things the doctor said to him, and some dark secrets are revealed about Jamie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, quick warning for this chap, there are mentions of child abuse, self-harm and eating disorders. The abuse and self-harm are just mentioned, but the eating disorder features quite a bit. It's from John's POV, but features anyway.
> 
> If any of these are triggering to you, please do not read. Stay safe, guys.

John watched his sergeant swallow another spoonful of soup.

One of the things the doctors looking after Jamie during his stay in the hospital, Dr Bowden, had highlighted as a concern was Jamie's weight.

She had requested to speak to John in private when he and Sarah had visited the day before and had brought up Jamie's file. 

Solemnly, she pointed out various injuries- broken bones not fully healed, fractures not entirely doctored, scars on his back that could only have been made by something heavy and with a barrelled edge, like a belt buckle.

But what scared John the most were the scars on Jamie's arms and wrists.

Dr Bowden had shown him a photo, carefully gauging his reaction.

When John saw the photo, he felt sick.

“There's no way these could have been made by someone else?” He had whispered, voice shaky.

Dr Bowden had shaken her head. “It's unlikely. These kinds of scars are usually self-inflicted, whether meant to cause death or not is usually up to the individual. Not all self-harmers are suicidal, sometimes it's that sense of control in their lives.”

John had set the photo down, the back of the paper facing up, unable to look at it. He knew it didn't do anything, the real scars would still be on Jamie's wrists, but he couldn't bear to look at the evidence.

He'd had a feeling Jamie had been suffering from depression, probably for quite a while. Jamie rarely gave much away, but his psychology degree allowed him to see things most people wouldn't notice.

“There's one other thing,” Dr Bowden had said, clicking her mouse a few times. “Mr Winter's weight is significantly lower than expected for his age group. With his line of work, I would expect him to be on the lower boundary for his bracket, but not so low his weight is on par with the average weight of a 17-year-old female.”

John's heart had stopped beating in his chest.

“Without a formal diagnosis, I can't be entirely sure, but I'd say there is some kind of eating disorder. Most likely anorexia or an OSFED. I'd recommend getting a formal diagnosis, though, when Mr Winter is able to move again, and maybe see a mental health professional. It might be an old issue, but it'd be better to get it checked out.”

  
  


John knew you couldn’t force food on someone who had an eating problem, that you had to ease them into it, gradually increasing the portion size until the person was eating healthily.

He’d brought it up with Sarah just before they’d gone to get Jamie, his wife sharing the same horror and concern he’d felt.

Even if John had known sooner about his depression, he surely hadn’t anticipated this. 

Like, the boy was rather slim, but he just thought it was his natural body shape. He knew Jamie was athletic, the young man having taken part in lots of different sports and running after suspects was in his job description, so it was easy to see where Jamie would lose the weight.

But for that weight to be that of a 17-year-old girl? 

Either Jamie had a very fast metabolism, or he wasn’t eating enough.

The question, though, was why. Why wasn’t he eating enough? Was it a symptom of his depression, or was it part of something more?

The dull thud of a spoon hitting wood and he looked over to see Jamie had put his spoon down on the tray. Half the bowl of soup had gone, as had a small bit of the bread roll.

Jamie gave him a nervous smile. “Sorry, sir-”

John cut him off. “It’s fine Jamie. I’ll put it over here and you can have some more later.”

He didn’t miss the small grimace that flickered over Jamie’s features.

Suddenly Jamie lurched, pressing the palm of his hand to his mouth. John quickly grabbed the bin from next to the dresser and placed it under Jamie’s head just as the younger man vomited.

The stench of vomit filled the room, the acidic smell invading John’s nose until all he could smell was the putrid smell of puke.

Jamie jerked forward again, spewing more vomit into the bin. John rubbed circles on Jamie’s back as the sergeant shuddered, only bringing up clear bile now.

The young man retched a few more times, gagging on a last bit of bile before dropping his head towards the bin with a groan.

John carefully pried at bin out of Jamie’s grasp and handed him a tissue to wipe the puke off his lips.

He jumped in surprised as Jamie slumped forwards on the bed, practically folding himself in half.

John placed the bin on the floor and manoeuvred Jamie so the sergeant was lying on his back and placed some pillows under Jamie’s knees to elevate his legs.

“Sarah!” The DCI called and instantly Sarah appeared at the door.

“John?” She asked, seeing Jamie unconscious on the bed. “What happened?”

“Could you take that bin out, please? And get a glass of water?”

Sarah pulled a face at the stench coming out of the bin, but picked it up and took it outside, returning a few moments later with a glass of water. She placed the glass on the bedside table and looked down at Jamie.

“What happened?” She repeated. 

“He managed to eat about half of the soup, vomited most of it up and then fainted.” John explained.

Sarah frowned. “That’s not good. Could it be serious?”

John shook his head. “I doubt it. It was probably his body reacting to being fed much more than it’s used to. I guess we’ll have to start smaller.”

Sarah nodded grimly.

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open and he let out a small groan, head moving to the left, away from the light.

“Jamie?” Sarah asked softly, and Jamie tilted his head to look at her.

John helped him sit up and Sarah pressed the glass of water into his hands. Jamie took a few sips and smiled sheepishly at the Barnabys.

“Sorry about that,” he started, but John held up a hand.

“You need to stop apologising, Jamie. Nothing that’s happening is your fault.”

Jamie didn’t look convinced, but didn’t say anything more, instead slumping back into the pillows.

John and Sarah shared a look. Both agreeing on one thing-

_It’s now or never._

“But while we’re on the subject, we should probably talk about your eating habits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess I'd better add my name to about five more hit lists, heh
> 
> This chapter was kind of hard to write, so sorry if it's not up to my usual (shitty) standards.
> 
> Special thanks to @midsomer4life for not only being my test subject, but also my personal cheerleader. Thanks hun!


	10. The Actor’s Here, the Actor’s Playing the Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sarah confront Jamie about his eating habits and Jamie finally starts to open up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit short, it is a bit of a filler chapter.
> 
> Quick warning for mentions of eating disorders and child abuse. These will also be present in some of the later chapters as we get into Jamie's past. If these trigger you in any way, please do not read.

Jamie blinked.

_ What? _

His eating habits were fine, weren’t they?

Okay, maybe he didn’t eat as much as he could, but it wasn’t anything to worry about. It was the same amount he’d always eaten, and he was fine.

Right?

He glanced between John and Sarah, trying to read their faces, trying to see where this might be going. 

John shifted, gaining Jamie’s attention.

“The hospital expressed concern about your weight. They said you were far too underweight for your age group-”

_ Okay _ , Jamie thought.  _ We can work with that, that’s not too bad, there’s a whole range of excuses for that- _

“They also have reason to believe that there is evidence of abuse-”

Jamie choked on his own spit. How did they find  _ that  _ out?

He paled. His back, of course. There was no way that could’ve gotten past the surgeons.

How was he going to explain this? There weren’t many excuses as to why someone had fucking belt marks on their back.

Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shitohshitohshit-

“Jamie? Jamie, look at me. Look at me, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Jamie sucked in a deep breath. He hadn’t realised he was panicking. He collapsed onto the bed, panting softly. Someone was running their fingers through his hair, his hand clasped in someone else's.

“You don't have to say anything now, Jamie, you can talk when you're ready, but we'll always be here for you.” Sarah gently ran her thumb over his knuckles.

Jamie's brain was working in hyperdrive, weighing up the pros and cons of releasing everything.

In the end, he let out a small sigh.

“You might want to get a chair, Sir. It's quite a long story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, these next few chapters will feature child abuse and some mental disorders quite heavily, so if these trigger you, please don't read.
> 
> Again, sorry it's such a short chapter, it is a filler one, and I do apologise, but we will get back into the angsty stuff within the next two chapters, I promise!


	11. I Remember Crashing Down, Losing Touch with All I've Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first 'memory chapter', as midsomer4life calls them. This isn't the best, but it should hopefully give some background on the situation. Don't worry, this isn't the last 'memory chapter', we will be taking several trips down memory lane in the coming chapters

It all started on December 25th, 1992.

Most people would be spending Christmas day at home, eating roast turkey and Christmas Pudding, drinking prosecco or champagne or sherry, watching family movies, exchanging presents and generally having a good old time.

Not the Winters. 

Well, not on this occasion. Usually they did all the traditional Christmas day stuff, Caitlin Winter would cook a massive Christmas dinner for the family who’d come round, presents would be exchanged and the children would be playing with whatever toys they got, some movie would be playing on the TV, relatives would be round, cooing over the little boys, saying how big they’d gotten. The usual kind of thing.

This year, however, Christmas day was spent at the hospital in the maternity ward, waiting for the latest member of the Winter family to be born.

It wasn’t a long labour, not as long as the first two, around eight hours. 

But for the parents of an unwanted child, it felt like a lifetime.

  
  


At 11:15 on December 25th 1992, James Nicholas Digby Winter was born.

  
  


There wasn’t anything special about his arrival, mediocre compared to the parent’s explosion of joy at Matthew’s first cry, or the relief with Joseph opened his eyes after a long labour, or sobs of happiness when Phillip was born.

Just, silence.

The nurse beamed, handing over the bundle to Caitlin. Caitlin took it wordlessly, face stony as she looked down at the child.

The child blinked up at her, pale blue eyes, as light as ice, peered up at her. 

Caitlin scowled at the child. This… thing was what she spent eight hours in pain for? And for what? A child they hadn’t wanted in the first place?

With the nurses, doctors and midwives having left the room, Ignacio turned to his wife.

“So, what are we going to do with it?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I made Jamie's birthday Christmas day. No, I do not apologise.   
> (1992 puts his age at 27, which I think fits the series fine)
> 
> Sorry it's a bit short, I think chapter 12 is as well, but the 'memory chapters' will be longer.


	12. Love Me, or Leave Me Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie starts to open up about his past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SHORT AND I'M SORRY, BUT CHAPTER 13 WILL BE MUCH, MUCH LONGER, THE LONGEST YET (it's like 9 pages on Docs atm and it isn't finished yet)
> 
> I suppose warnings for mentioned child abuse? It isn't developed, just mentioned in passing conversation, but if you think it might trigger you, please don't read.

Jamie hated talking about his past. It was one of those things he wished he could erase completely.

Once John and Sarah were settled, one on either side of his bed, Jamie sighed.

“I suppose you already know my childhood wasn’t good. I don’t know how much you know.”

“Only that we’re your emergency contacts, your death in service payment beneficiary is Betty and there is very little on your file, and what the hospital showed us.” John answered.

Jamie grimaced. That meant he had to go all the way back, something he really didn’t want to do.

He took a deep breath. “Well, my parents didn’t want me. Told me as much, regularly. It hurt at first, but it soon became old, something I heard every day- ‘We didn’t want you’, ‘you ruined our lives’, that sort of thing.”

He ignored the deep inhales on either side of him.

“Like, I said, I got used to it. Dealt with it for eighteen years of my life. My brother Matthew wasn’t much better, he took after my father in a lot of ways. Could be downright terrifying at times.”

“Did they ever physically hurt you?” John asked.

“Almost every day.” Was the reply.

John and Sarah exchanged looks over the bed.

“What did they do?” Sarah asked lowly.

Jamie snorted. “What _didn’t_ they do?”

“Jamie…” John started.

The sergeant sighed. He clenched his eyes shut, head tilted towards his chest. “They tried to kill me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIKE I SAID, I'M SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT BUT I AM WRITING CHAPTER 13, I'VE JUST BEEN SUPER BUSY AND UNABLE TO COMPLETE IT
> 
> Next chapter is much longer, and will hopefully be up soon!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


	13. And Now I'm Glad I Didn't Know the Way it All would End, the Way it All would Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a trip back in time to Jamie's childhood, and it's not a very happy one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 13 AS PROMISED
> 
> This is yet another 'memory chapter', so a bit more background info on Jamie
> 
> I won't waffle too much at the beginning, but just to warn ya, it's long. Took me days to write out and it's almost 20 pages on my Docs, so enjoy!
> 
> Warnings for child abuse, name-calling, referenced suicidal thoughts, stabbing and attempted murder (yes, we are going there)

The date was November 29th, 2002.

Nine-year-old Jamie Winter bit his lip as he entered the house. His friend, Jain, had requested a sleepover for her birthday the next weekend, and her parents had agreed.

All Jamie had to do was ask his mother if he could go.

He knew it was stupid, that it should be a simple question over dinner, one his mother should easily agree to, but he was absolutely _terrified_.

It was ridiculous, but he was petrified of his mother. He never knew what mood she was in, whether she was somewhat passive and would agree to him spending the weekend at Jani’s house, if only to get him out of the house, or if she would throw him out of the window for suggesting such an idea.

He took a deep breath and pushed open the kitchen door. Caitlin looked up from where she was peeling carrots and fixed a glare on her youngest son.

“What do you want?” She snapped.

Jamie shuffled his feet slightly, looking down at the mosaic floor of the kitchen. “It’s Jani’s birthday next weekend, and she’s-”

“Head up James, and stop the mumbling. How many times have we told you?”

Jamie winced but lifted his head. “Jani’s having a sleepover next weekend for her birthday, and I hoping you’d let me go?”

Caitlin put the carrot she was holding down, her voice icy. “And why would I do that?”

Jamie recoiled. “I just thought you’d like to have me out of the house.”

Caitlin turned back to making dinner. “No, and that’s final, James.”

“But why don't you ever let me go anywhere? Matthew, Joseph and Philip can go wherever they want, why not me?”

Jamie clamped a hand over his mouth, having only just realised what he’d said.

Caitlin whirled around, a fire blazing in her eyes. Jamie gulped.

“Are you taking back to me?” His mother demanded. 

“N-no, I was just asking-”

“Go to your room and don’t come out until you’ve learnt some manners,” Caitlin growled, shoving Jamie towards the basement door.

Jamie sighed. “Sometimes I really feel like I'm unwanted here.” He mumbled to himself.

“That’s because you are.”

  
  


_What._

  
  


Jamie turned around to face his mother, confusion etched across his face. “Pardon?”

“Do you have cotton wool between your ears? I said you weren't wanted.”

  
  


Jamie’s brain went blank. How was he supposed to respond to that? Sure, he had a feeling that’s how his parents felt, but to actually hear them say it, for it to be out in the open.

It was like his world crashed. No more pretending, not anymore.

Caitlin laughed at him. “You really thought we wanted you? We had everything we wanted, why would we want you? You're useless.”

“W-what?” Jamie stuttered.

“You heard me, runt.” His mother grabbed him by his top and lifted him off his feet. “You're about as useful as a pet rock. What use are they? They can't do anything, they don't contribute anything to society or the family. They're just a waste of time, money and space.” 

She leaned in close to his ear. “Just like you.”

She dopped Jamie, the child landing on his knees heavily, the bones thudding against the kitchen floor.

Jamie stayed kneeling on the floor, staring down at the mosaic tiles. “And you couldn't have told me earlier? I always thought I was adopted. At least that would give me hope for better parents.” He glared up at his mother.

Caitlin laughed at him, the sound ominous, ringing off the pots and pans hanging up in the kitchen. “Who would want you?”

Feeling braver, Jamie scrambled to his feet, wincing at the pain in his knees. “Why wouldn't they? Only you see bad things in me.”

“And is there any good?” His mother scoffed.

“Yes. Llewelyn and Jain said so.” 

“Oh yeah? What did they say, then?”

Jamie knew his mother was mocking him, baiting him into stepping over a line she could use to justify hurting him, yet-

“They said I was clever. And kind. That I wouldn't let them down and that I'll protect them no matter what. They said this was very important when you have friends.”

Caitlin sneered. “Aww, how cute. But how utterly wrong. You're nothing but a disappointment.”

“Have you ever loved me?”

That sealed his fate.

He felt he already knew the answer, and his mother’s silence just confirmed it.

Something snapped in him, and he couldn’t take it anymore. “HAVE YOU EVER LOVED ME? WHY DON'T YOU ANSWER? C'MON, YES OR NO? HAVE YOU EVER FELT AN OUNCE OF LOVE FOR ME? LIKE A MOTHER SHOULD LOVE HER SON?”

There was a sharp sting across his face and Jamie’s hand flew to his cheek, the skin warm under his touch.

Caitlin was seething. “HOW DARE YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME? I AM YOUR MOTHER, YOU SHOULD SOME RESPECT.”

“IF YOU WERE MY MOTHER THEN YOU SHOULD LOVE ME!”

“WELL I AM YOUR MOTHER, AND I DON'T LOVE YOU. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW, JAMES?”

Even though he already knew it, the confirmation just hurt all the more.

“And dad? Does he feel the same?” Not that he needed confirmation on that, his parents rarely disagreed on anything.

“What about Joesph and Phillip? Would they still see you as the ‘perfect mother’ if they knew what was going on?”

“YOU REALLY THINK THEY CARE ABOUT YOU? RIDDLE ME THIS, JAMES: WHEN HAVE THEY SHOWN A HINT OF CARE? WHEN HAVE THEY EVER STOOD UP FOR YOU? COMFORTED YOU? NEVER. GET IT THROUGH YOU THICK SKULL-” Caitlin grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. “NO-ONE WANTS YOU.”

Jamie fought back the tears of pain, his neck pulled painfully back. “Yes there are! There Jain, an-and Llewelyn, an-and they would never let me down!”

Caitlin pulled his head back further, exposing his neck. “AND WHERE ARE THEY NOW, HUH, JAMES? WHERE ARE YOUR SO-CALLED 'FRIENDS' IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR? CAN THEY STOP ME FROM DOING THIS?”

She pulled a knife out of the knife block and held it against Jamie’s throat.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” Jamie hissed. “You’ve already broken me, you can’t hurt me anymore.”

Caitlin growled, slamming the knife down onto a chopping board, turning Jamie around and shoving him against the wall, twisting his arm behind his back. “I TOLD YOU TO SHOW SOME RESPECT, RUNT!”

Jamie panicked, struggling against his mother’s hold. “LET ME GO!”

Caitlin twisted his arm further until it popped out of his socket.

Jamie screamed.

His mother snickered, dropping his arm. “Oops, you'd better see to that James, we can't have you missing school tomorrow, can we?”

A sob tore itself from his throat.

Caitlin rolled her eyes. “Go to your room if you’re going to make that much noise. I need to finish dinner.”

Jamie whimpered, tears flowing down his cheeks, cradling his arm. “After I turn eighteen, you'll never have to see me again. Never, I promise. I'll stop being a burden. I'll leave on the day of my birthday. And if you really wanna know, I think we've been disappointments to each other. Don’t leave anything for me, I'm not hungry.”

“You'll be lucky if you make it to eighteen.”

Jamie froze, head turning towards his mother. “I'm so much more than you could ever imagine. Just you wait.”

“We'll see.” Caitlin pulled the knife out of the chopping board.

“Go ahead. Kill me. I don't care. For what it's worth, you should have aborted. I'd prefer not to live than stay here. So go ahead. I would've done it sooner or later.”

Caitlin smirked. “I knew it. You are such a weakling, _darling_ ,” she handed him the knife. “Go ahead, do it yourself.”

Jamie looked at the knife, then back at his mother. He reached out and took the blade from her, just staring at it.

“Can't even kill yourself, how useless. Do I have to do everything for you?” His mother snatched the knife back from him and thrust her arm forward.

Jamie’s eyes widened and he let out a loud gasp and the knife glided into his stomach.

Caitlin grinned and pushed the knife in further, twisting it painfully. “There you go, that wasn't hard, was it, James?”

Tears ran down Jamie’s face and she patted his hair in a condescending manner. “There, there, stop the crying, you're not five.”

Jamie’s legs gave out, his body only kept up by the knife in his stomach. Caitlin lowered him to the ground, pushing the knife in further.

Jamie let out a strangled cry, sobbing as the knife went deeper into his stomach.

  
  


The door was thrown open and Phillip walked in, looking at something on his phone.

“Hey, mum, could you-” He looked up and took in the scene before him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Caitlin twisted the knife, drawing another cry from Jamie. “Teaching your brother a lesson.”

Phillip threw his phone onto the counter and ran towards them. “YOU'RE GONNA KILL HIM!”

The next words out of his mother’s mouth made him stop dead. “That's the idea.”

Phillip’s mouth opened and closed in an imitation of a goldfish. Finally, his brain caught up with his mouth. “MUM STOP!”

Caitlin sighed but tore the knife out of Jamie’s stomach, wrenching a scream from the younger.

Phillip dropped to his knees beside Jamie, ignoring the blood soaking through his jeans, pulling Jamie’s head onto his lap and running his hands through Jamie’s hair. “Ssh, Jamie, ssh, it's gonna be okay.” 

He looked up at his mother, who was just standing over them, watching with her beady eyes. “MUM CALL AN AMBULANCE.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes in exasperation, but picked up Phillip’s phone and dialled 999. She instantly put on an act, fake tears welling up in her eyes as she let out a sob down the phone line. “Yes, ambulance, please. We had an intruder and my son was stabbed, please hurry!”

She disconnected the line and slammed the phone back down on the counter, scowling at Phillip.

Jamie could feel himself getting weaker. He tore his gaze away from the ceiling to look at his brother, who was whispering comfort into his hair.

“Tell her... Tell mum…” He mumbled, the simple action using up most of his energy.

Phillip shushed him. “No, no, Jamie, keep your eyes on me, okay? Just keep looking at me.”

“Tell her she'll remember me... Tell her to remember my eyes. I'm the only one who's got her eyes. She'll have to remember that...” Jamie’s head lolled into Phillip’s shoulder.

The elder panicked, pressing a tea towel down hard on the knife wound, eliciting a hiss from Jamie. “You can tell her yourself, you're going to be okay, okay Jamie? Just keep looking at me.”

Jamie could hear his mother smashing plates and upsetting the kitchen equipment so it looked like there was an intruder. “No, Philip... I'm sorry... You'll have to tell her, so promise me you'll tell her this: Remember me for centuries, remember how scared I was of my own _mother_. You'll tell her?” 

Phillip pressed down harder on the towel, desperate to stem the bleeding.

The wail of an ambulance siren filled the air, and Phillip let out a sob of relief. “You can tell her yourself, Jamie, because you're going to live. Listen, you can hear the sirens calling.”

“I'm sorry... So so sorry...” Jamie’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went limp in Phillip’s arms.

Phillip gently hit Jamie’s cheek. “Jamie? Jamie? JAMIE? JAMIE WAKE UP!”

He turned to his mother, fire in his eyes. “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO SAY IF HE DIES? THAT HIS OWN MOTHER STABBED HIM? DO YOU WANT THAT?”

Caitlin glared at him. “Just stick with the intruder story, the police are so dumb they'll go on a wild goose chase looking for them and they won't ask questions.”

“YOUR FINGERPRINTS ARE ON THE KNIFE!” Phillip cried.

Caitlin grabbed the knife, yanked the tea towel Phillip was pressing down on Jamie’s stomach out of her son’s grasp, and wiped the handle of the knife down with it, throwing the knife on floor next to Jamie. “No, they aren’t.”

Phillip gaped. “You're despicable.” He spat.

  
  


The paramedics ran into the kitchen and pushed Phillip off Jamie, lifting the child onto a wheeled stretcher and rushed out of the house, Phillip following, demanding to be allowed in the ambulance with his brother.

Meanwhile, Caitlin and Ignacio were talking to the police officer that had arrived with the ambulance, both wearing fake looks of concern and horror.

“Yes, Officer, there was an intruder. They came in through the kitchen window when James was washing up. He tried to tell us but the intruder stabbed him. I came out to see what all the commotion was about just as James was stabbed. The intruder got away and we called the ambulance as quickly as possible.”

She let the fake tears run down her cheeks. “James, he's my youngest, oh my God I might lose my baby. He's only 10, oh my God-”

Her husband put an arm over her shoulders in mock sympathy, speaking in a low tone, “James is strong, he'll be okay.”  
He turned to the police officer. “I trust you'll find out who did this, officer?”

  
  


It was half an hour until the three Winters were in the waiting room. Phillip was hunched over in his chair, face in his hands, Caitlin and Ignacio looking far too relaxed for parents of a child who had just been stabbed.

“So what happens now? You can't pretend something like this didn't happen.” Phillip lifted his head to glare at his parents.

Caitlin shrugged. “Why not? That's what's happened before.”

“It's never gone THIS far before!” Phillip snapped.

“Maybe he was asking for it. You never know, not with him.” Ignacio stated coldly.

“WHO ASKS TO BE STABBED?” Phillip cried, earning looks from the other people in the waiting room, his parents quickly ‘sush’ing him.

  
  


“He did say he would do it himself.” Caitlin hummed.

  
  


Phillip felt his world collapse. “He _what?_ ”

He shook himself out of his shock. “Do you realise what this means?” He hissed at his mother.

“That your brother is so useless he can't even die properly?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat.

“Phillip, you know James isn't actually part of the family-” Ignacio started.

“HE IS FAMILY.” Phillip cut him off. “You made him, whether you meant to or not, you still did. You gave birth to him, named him, raised him. He is family, whether you like it or not.”

He pointed an accusatory finger at Caitlin. “AND YOU TRIED TO KILL YOUR OWN SON!”

There was the sound of footsteps accompanied by a “What the fuck?”

The family looked up to see Joeseph, the second son, walk into the waiting room. He looked at Phillip.

“Phil? The fuck did I just hear?”

“MUM STABBED JAMIE.” Phillip ground out, still glaring at Caitlin.

“YOU FUCKING WHAT?!” Joesph cried.

Caitlin shrugged uncaringly. “He was asking for it.”

Phillip ran a hand through his hair. “He said, oh God, Joe, he said he would kill himself-”

“Excuse me? What did he fucking say? What did he say, _exactly_?” Joesph rounded on his parents.

Caitlin had the audacity to smirk. “He said “I'd prefer not to live than stay here. So go ahead. Maybe I would've done it sooner or later." If he had, we wouldn't be wasting our time here.”

“YOU TRIED TO KILL HIM AND YOU STILL DON'T CARE!” Phillip exclaimed.

“You know what Mum? That's it, I'm done. I'm done with those lies and games. You tell us what happened, in details, and for once in your life, you're gonna be honest with us. Why do you hate Jamie so much?”

Caitlin sniffed haughtily. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because Phil and I always saw you yelling at him, for no reason. It's blatantly obvious you hate him. Why, and why not us? We're also your sons, aren't we?”

“He wasn't wanted.”

“THAT'S NO EXCUSE” Phillip slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair he was sitting in.

“He wasn't wanted, plain and simple. He ruined everything, another baby meant more money having to be spent, on something we didn't want, no less. You want to know why we hate James? He ruined everything, and no matter what, that bitch won't die.”

Joeseph and Phillip sat in stone-dead silence, until-

“SO THIS WASN'T THE FIRST TIME?” Phillip screamed.

“Not the first, and won't be the last.” Was his mother’s reply.

Phillip collapsed back into his seat. “What was the first?” He whispered.

“The day he was born. They wrap the baby in so many blankets, who'd have known he'd been smothered?” 

“That’s sick...” Phillip mumbled.

“He loved to play underwater. Who would've known... accidents happen so quickly.” Ignacio continued.

  
  


“What did you do?” Phillip asked, suddenly terrified. How many times had this happened? How many times had their parents tried to kill Jamie?

“When he was a year old. Caitlin was unavailable, so I gave him his bath. I held him underwater. I forgot your grandma was visiting that day, and it would've been too dangerous to do that when she was there. He coughed up his lungs, but still alive.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?” Phillip breathed.  
Poor Jamie, having to endure murder attempts by his own parents since the day he was born. How hadn’t he known? Why didn’t Jamie say anything?

Jamie didn’t trust them. 

Why would he? What had Phillip or Joeseph ever done to earn his trust? They’d never stopped their mother slapping Jamie, or their father throwing empty beer bottles at him, they’d never stood up for him, admitted to breaking that plate. Hell, they never even comforted him, helped him clean his wounds, reset broken bones or dislocated joints.

They did nothing.

“Like your mother said, we hold a serious grudge. If we could get rid of him, the sooner the better.”

Their mother cut in with a hideous laugh. “The number of times we dropped him on his head, you'd have thought he'd break his neck. But it never happened. That thing was like a rubber ball, couldn't destroy it no matter how hard we tried. Drowning, suffocation, hell, we even let his wounds get infected to see if that would do anything.”

Joseph was gripping the back of Phillip’s chair, knuckles a stark white from how tightly he was clutching the plastic.

“I think I'm gonna throw up. You literally repel me. Both of you.” He muttered.

Phillip sucked in a breath. They weren’t much better than their parents, they’d never stopped the abuse.

And if Jamie lived-

_No,_ Phillip shook his head, _Jamie will live, and we are putting a stop to this now._

“All this because you had a child you didn't want. What about abortion? Adoption?”

Caitlin scowled. “How dare you mention that monstrosity of human ideology in front of us. Abortion is a disgrace to humanity. It only brings sin to the family. Better to have the child and get rid of it when it's born. Winters do not abort, it is sinful.”

“AND KILLING CHILDREN ISN'T?” Phillip growled.

“You two are crazy. Literally crazy. You are ready to kill your own child just because he was born on Christmas Day? Because he wasn’t planned? Lots of children aren’t planned, yet their parents don’t try to _murder_ them.”

“I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! YOU CAN'T KILL A LIVING CHILD JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT THEM. IF YOU DON'T WANT A CHILD, THEN HAVE AN ABORTION OR PUT THEM UP ADOPTION, NOT MURDER THEM! YOU CAN'T JUSTIFY KILLING CHILDREN.” Phillip screamed, ignoring the looks he drew from patients and healthcare staff alike.

“WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT, JAMIE IS FAMILY. HE IS OUR BROTHER AND WE LOVE HIM. HE ISN'T PERFECT, NO-ONE IS- YOU'VE PROVEN THAT TONIGHT. IF HE DIES GOD SO HELP ME-”

“And what would you do? You're 14, no-one will believe you, not over us.” Caitlin pulled Phillip back down into his seat.

“Maybe he can't, but I'm 18. I can do things that he can't. Make lawyers enter this matter, for instance.” Joseph gritted his teeth.

At this moment, a nurse appeared in front of them. “Are you here for James Winter?” She asked, seemingly scared of the screaming family in front of her.

“Yes?” Phillip asked, jumping to his feet, almost knocking Joesph over.

“Follow me, please.”

The nurse led them through a maze of white-washed hallways and stopped outside a closed door. She pushed the door open and gestured for the family to enter.

As soon as he entered the room, Phillip’s heart stopped.

His baby brother, laying in a hospital bed, pale and sweating, machines attached to every bit of skin visible, IV drips feeding nutrients and fluids into his body.

“Mr and Mrs Winter? I’m Mrs Bowden, I was the head surgeon on your son. You said he was attacked by an intruder, yes?” 

Caitlin and Ignacio nodded.

“James was certainly very lucky. The knife missed his lungs and only got his stomach, we managed to stop the internal bleeding, patch up his stomach and close the wound. He’ll need to take it easy for a few days though, to recover from the surgery, and we’d like to keep him under surveillance for about a week before he can be dismissed, then he’ll have to be on bedrest for another week before he can do any kind of physical activity.”

Mrs Bowden missed the stormy look that clouded over Caitlin and Ignacio’s faces as she continued to give Jamie’s diagnosis, leaving the room soon after.

Phillip spoke up from the chair he’d collapsed in.

“He said- he asked me to remind you he had your eyes, mum, and to remember how scared he was of you, mum he was terrified. You had him scared shitless every time he walked in that door. HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO YOUR OWN SON?” Phillip sobbed. “He told me -he made me promise- to tell you. He told me that you will remember him for centuries, mum, _centuries_. And I think he's right. You're gonna remember him as he was today to your final day. No matter how hard you'll try to forget it, you'll remember. You'll remember how you failed him as a mother. And how you lost us, too.”

  
  


As if in response, Jamie’s finger twitched.

All heads in the room turned to face him, Phillip reaching out to take his brother’s hand in his own.

“Jamie? Jamie? Can you hear me?” He asked as Jamie’s eyes began to flicker open, unfocused and confused.

“Get out. Both of you. Get out, now!” Joseph hissed at Caitlin and Ignacio.

“How dare you talk to us like that?” Caitlin snapped back.

Jamie’s head lolled towards Phillip, movements slow and sluggish due to the copious amount of morphine he’d been dosed with.

Phillip let out a sob of relief and kissed Jamie’s forehead. “Thank God you're okay.”

Joseph was still arguing with his parents. “I don't want to add a panic attack on Jamie's medical file if he sees you here. Go home. If you really don't care about him, get out.”

Jamie’s head slumped to his left, staring Caitlin in the eyes. His eyes widened and he started to thrash about in his bed, panicking at the sight of his parents.

Phillip ran a hand through Jamie’s hair. “Ssh, ssh, it's okay Jamie, they're leaving. looks up at Caitlin and Ignacio Aren't they?”

“Humpf, let's go, Ignacio.” Caitlin huffed, turning on her heel and slamming the door shut, Ignacio following her.

Phillip turned his attention back to Jamie. “Jamie, Jamie, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe.”

“Mum-” Jamie turned his head towards the door, the morphine making his movements groggy.

“She's not here, they're not here, you're okay, you won't have to worry about them ever again.” Phillip pressed a kiss to Jamie’s forehead.

“Why?” Jamie turned his head back to Phillip.

“We're gonna go to the police okay, we're gonna tell them exactly what happened, they won't be able to hurt you anymore.” Joseph settled down on the other side of the bed.

“What happened? Why 'm I at the hospital?” Jamie slurred.

Phillip glanced up at Joseph. “Should we tell him?” He whispered.

Joseph nodded. “He’ll need to know anyway.”

Phillip looked back down at his brother. “Mum stabbed you, Jamie. You were in surgery for over an hour.”

“Why? Why mum stabbed me?” Jamie mumbled, tilting his head back as Phillip continued to run his fingers through the youngest’s hair.

“She thought you ruined her life when you were born, she and dad both did. They claimed they didn't want you, that you were a mistake.”

Jamie pouted. “That's not nice.”

Joseph looked back up at Phillip. “Morphine?”

Phillip nodded. “Morphine. He'll be woozy for a while, depending on the dosage they gave him.”

Jamie frowned. “'M not woozy.” He murmured.

“Yes, you are.” Phillip laughed.

“No, I'm not why do ya think that.”

Phillip held up two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Six.”

“Woozy.”

Jamie pouted again and Phillip clutched at his heart dramatically.

“Noooo, not the baby face! It's too cute!” He fell to the floor of the hospital room. “I am down! Taken down by cuteness! Joseph, avenge me!”

Joseph laughed at his brother's theatrics. “Okay, I guess I just have to... Hug you so that Phillip can't see your face being cute!” He pulled his youngest brother into a careful hug, pressing Jamie’s face into his shoulder.

Phillip was back on his knees in a flash. “I want to hug the baby too!” He wrapped his arms around Jamie, mindful of the wires and tubes attached to his brother.

“I'm not a baby, I'm 10!” Jamie’s voice was slightly muffled by Joseph's hoodie.

Phillip ruffled his hair. “You're our baby brother.”

Jamie pulled his face out of Joseph's shoulder, looking at the ceiling. “I wanna float.” He stated suddenly.

Phillip raised an eyebrow. “Um, maybe not now? I don't think it would do your stitches any good.”

“What do you mean you wanna float?” Joseph asked.

“I wanna float like in the fairytale.” Jamie gestured vaguely.

“Which one?”

“The one Phillip read me.”

“You mean ' _T_ _he Light Princess'_ ?” Phillip quirked an eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you just gotta not cry for ten years.” Phillip smirked.

“Ok.” Jamie settled back into the bed.

“Jamie that was a joke-” Joseph said at the same time Phillip went “Wait, _kut_ , Jamie, don't actually do that-”

Jamie pulled a face but said nothing more on the subject.

The three settled into a comfortable silence, Joseph eyeing Phillip and nodding towards Jamie, who had started to slip back into a snooze.

“Hey, Jamie, wanna hear a joke?” Phillip settled back on his heels.

Jamie turned to look at him. “Yeah.”

“Why do we tell actors to ‘break a leg’?”

“Dunno.”

“Cuz every play has a cast!” Phillip grinned and Joseph snorted.

“That was so bad!”

Jamie took a moment to process the joke, then started laughing.

Phillip looked triumphantly at his brother. “Hey, it made him laugh.”

Jamie tugged on Joseph's sleeve. “Can Llewelyn and Jain come later?”

“If their parents say they can, sure,” Phillip answered.

Joseph looked up at Phillip. “Llewelyn and Jain?” He asked.

“Jamie’s friends from school,” Phillip replied.

“They’re my best friends. Llewelyn is Scottish and Irish, so he has a funny accent. Jain is Egyptian, she’s beautiful but she's mute but it's okay cuz I learned sign language to talk with her. She says I sing well so I guess I do cuz she loves music.”

“You learnt sign language?” Phillip asked, impressed.

“Yeah, it made me sad cuz Jain could talk only with teachers or with notes but with notes everyone can see what she wants to say but when you speak sign language it's super-secret.” He finished his sentence in a hush, making Phillip and Joseph lean down to hear him.

“Can you teach us some?” Joseph asked.

Jamie signed something with his hands, Phillip and Joseph copying him.

“What does it mean?” Phillip put his hand down.

Jamie grinned. “It means 'I'm an idiot'. She pulled that joke on me too.”

Phillip mock-gasped. “You little sneak!”

Joseph wiped a non-existent tear. “Welcome to the fantastic world of brotherhood pranks, baby brother.”

“Don't encourage him!” Phillip scolded.

“‘m tired,” Jamie mumbled, clutching onto Phillip’s arm.

Phillip smiled softly, returning his hand to Jamie’s hair. “Sleep, baby brother.”

Jamie cuddled in closer to Phillip, snuggling his head into the elder’s chest. “Can you keep talking? I like your voice.”

Joseph quietly pulled his phone out, snapping a few photos of his brothers, earning a glare from Phillip.

“What would like me to say, baby brother? That no matter what, we love you and will always be here for you? That you're safe and we'll make sure of it?”

Jamie had fallen asleep before Phillip had finished his first sentence.

Phillip smiled, pressing a kiss to Jamie’s temple and gently untangling himself. “Sleep well, baby brother.” He mumbled against Jamie’s head.

Joseph tenderly swaddled Jamie in the hospital blanket, much like one would do to a newborn baby.

Once they were sure Jamie was asleep, Phillip turned to Joseph.

“We have work to do.” He stated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW THAT WAS A RIDE
> 
> Translation: "kut" is "vagina" in Dutch, but I have been reliably informed it can also be used to mean "fuck", which is what I wanted. Thanks for the correction!  
> (You'll see why I included that in later chapters, and it's not just because I'm learning Dutch)
> 
> Like I said, it was long. Took me maybe a week or so to write the chapter, I had all the dialogue, just needed to put it together.
> 
> Thanks to @midsomer4life for RP-ing the chapter out with me and for screaming down my WhatsApp to make me write this (and correcting my spelling of 'Joseph' at every turn)
> 
> I expect this will be the longest chapter, so hopefully, you won't be waiting as long for it. Chapter 14 is in the works. I had to make a whole new Doc for chapters 14 onwards cuz the first one started acting up. It is 50 pages long, which must be the longest Doc I've ever written actually.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it, and I hope I didn't kill anyone, and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	14. Restless Days, Memories on Repeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phillip and Joseph set out to get justice for Jamie, and a new player enters the scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that last chapter was a ride, wasn't it?
> 
> These next couple of chapters are going to be continuing from chapter 13, but they're not going to be as hard-hitting, I don't think, nor as long.
> 
> Warnings for mentioned attempted murder, and mentioned suicidal thoughts

Phillip turned to Joseph.

“We have work to do.” He stated.

Joseph nodded. “I know someone in the police, he can help us.”

“What's his name?”

“Scott. Dan Scott.”

“And he'll help us?”

“Yes, he owes me one.”

Phillip raised an eyebrow at that. “What did you do?”

“Helped him out with a case while I was in London. Oh, and I saved his life.” Joseph pulled out his phone, tapping the screen.

“And he'll believe us about Jamie? If we show him the evidence?”

' _He’d_ _damn well better_ ,' Phillip thought, ' _Jamie deserves justice_.'

“Of course. He's not the kind to agree with the rich. Comes from the eastern parts of London, always told me he could've gone on the wrong side of the law anytime when he was younger. He'll hate mum and dad.”

“Good. They deserve to be locked up for what they did to Jamie.” Phillip looked back at Jamie, who was still fast asleep, having snuggled into the blanket.

“Yeah.” Joseph followed his line of sight. “How... How could the people that raised us do _that_?”

Phillip shrugged. “Humans work in mysterious ways.”

“Read some poetry have you?” Joseph smirked.

Phillip glanced at his older brother. “You know I have.”

Joseph nodded at Jamie. “I hope you read him some, culture is never bad.”

Phillip smiled. “Of course. It can be some bedtime reading.” He sighed. “I can't believe we didn't notice before.”

“Me too…” Joseph mumbled.

“It took him nearly being killed to see what our parents are really like to our baby brother.” Phillip’s eyes hardened. “We're never letting them do it again.”

“What I'm really worried about is psychological trauma. Won't he be searching for new parental figures? What if we weren't good enough?” Joseph ran a hand through his hair.

“We'll do what we can, we won't be perfect, we can't be, but hopefully he'll open up more, make some new friends.”

Joseph nodded “Yeah.” He held up his phone, Dan Scott’s number dialled. “Shall we?”

Phillip nodded back. “Let's get our baby brother some justice.”

Joseph pressed the ‘call’ button and stepped out of the room, resting his back against the white corridor wall. A nurse passed him and gave him a sad smile, assuming he was calling a family member.

Joseph smiled back, attention returning to his phone when a voice said “ _Hello?_ ”

“Hi Dan, it's Joseph.”

He could hear Dan’s brow furrow over the line. “ _Joseph?_ ”

“Yeah. Hope you remember me. Joseph Winter, London, last year?”

“ _Ah yes, Joseph Winter. You okay?_ ”

“I'm fine, but I need your help.”

“ _What's wrong?_ ”

“It's my little brother, Jamie. He's been stabbed.” 

“ _WHAT-_ ” Dan exploded, and Joseph had to hold his phone away from his ear. “ _Okay, tell me what happened, from the start. Don't leave anything out._ ”

“Well actually I wasn't here from the start, but my little brother Phillip was. Could you come to Addenbrooke's Hospital? Room 518.”

“ _Cambridge? Lucky you, I'm already there. See you in twenty._ ”

“Thanks, mate. Really. See ya.” Joseph ended the call and went back into the room.

Phillip looked up at him expectantly.

“Dan said he’ll be over in twenty minutes. He’s taking the case.”

Phillip sighed in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“I’ll go and wait for him in reception.” Joseph left the room, making his way through the hospital corridors to the main reception. 

Twenty minutes later, a man of about six foot, with dark brown hair, wearing a navy suit and tie, walked through the automatic doors and headed to the front desk.

“Hi, I'm DC Dan Scott, Cambridgeshire Constabulary. I'm here for a Mr Jamie Winter?” He pulled out his warrant card, showing the nurse.

Joseph glanced up from his phone. “Dan! Over here!” He waved.

Dan thanked the receptionist and headed over to Joseph. “Joseph, what happened?”

“That's...a bit long to explain.” Joseph led him through the mass of corridors to the elevators, hitting the button for the fifth floor. They took a left down another corridor and opened the door to room 518. 

“Dan, this is Phillip. Phillip, this is Dan.” He gestured to Phillip.

Phillip stood up from the chair and shook Dan’s hand. “Phillip Winter.”

“DC Dan Scott.”

“And... that's Jamie.” Joseph pointed to the bed, where a young boy, no older than ten, lay, swathed in several hospital-issue blankets, wires and tubes attached to his body, the ECG beeping obnoxiously in the background.

“Phil, could you tell Dan what happened before I got there?” Joseph leaned against the wall opposite Jamie’s bed.

Phillip nodded and Dan took out his notepad, flipping to a new page.

“I wasn't there for the first bit, I went to ask mum a question and when I went into the kitchen, mum and Jamie were there, and mum had stabbed him with a knife. I don't know why, but she'd stabbed him, and when I confronted her, she just dug it in deeper-” Phillip was cut off by Dan’s head snapping up from his notepad.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah, hold on a sec. Your _mother_ did _this_ to your youngest brother?” Dan asked, shocked.

Phillip nodded. “Yes.” He sat back in the hospital chair, watching Jamie sadly. “I know she never liked him, that much was obvious, but to go as far as to stab him-” He sighed. “I never thought our parents were capable of that. They-” Phillip bit his lip, glancing back up at Dan. “They admitted they've been trying to kill him since he was born.”

Tears began to run down Phillip’s face. “And- and- and we never noticed. One day we could've woken up and not have had a baby brother.” He dug his face into his hands as he started crying. “Oh God, we could've lost our baby brother.”

Joseph was by his side in a flash, gathering the younger Winter into his arms and rubbing his back. “Shh, Phil, it's okay, he's safe now.” He looked up, meeting Dan’s gaze. “Can you help us?”

“Of course.” Dan nodded, turning to look at Jamie. “How old is he?”

“Ten,” Joseph replied.

“God…” Dan muttered. He’d seen people who had been stabbed, it was a given in the violent parts of London, but none were as young as Jamie.

He quickly composed himself, snapping back into DC mode. “I'll need to ask him some questions eventually. When will he wake up?”

“He's already woken up from the surgery, now he's just exhausted and woozy, they gave him a ton of morphine. This can wait tomorrow, maybe?” Joseph glanced over at Jamie, who had shifted in an attempt to roll over, blocked by the wires.

“Of course. You said they admitted it. What did they say, exactly?”

“They admitted to trying to kill him several times,” Phillip spoke up from where he was still clasped in Joseph’s arms. “They said he ruined their lives, that he wasn't wanted. And- and mum said “It wasn't the first, and won't be the last”, like as soon as he gets out they'll try to kill him again.” Phillip’s head snapped up, looking Dan dead in the eye. “We can't let that happen, please Dan, you have to help us.”

“Certainly... I'll need Jamie's version, though, before interrogating your parents. Three against two, with two witnesses... Even the dumbest lawyer can't fight against that.”

Relief flooded Phillip’s features. “Thanks, Dan.”

  
  


There was movement from the bed as Jamie stirred. 

“Jamie?” Joseph asked.

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open, turning his head towards Joseph.

Dan blinked, slightly taken aback by the younger’s eyes, sparkling like ice on a Christmas card.

Jamie’s eyes clouded over in confusion as he saw Dan. “Who's the funny monkey-looking man?”

Joseph blinked. “What?”

Jamie pointed at Dan. “Funny monkey-looking man.”

“M-Monkey-looking?” He turned to Joseph “Any ideas?”

“Morphine,” Phillip stated. “He's doped high on it, must have been in a lot of pain.”

“Ah…” Dan pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is gonna take a while…”

Phillip watched as Jamie squirmed on the bed, giggling like a baby who’d just discovered their new favourite thing. “Yeah, maybe wait until tomorrow to get any sense out of him.”

“I'm floating!” Jamie squealed.

“That's nice, sweetie,” Phillip called.

“It's okay, I've worked with worse. The less we wait the faster we sort this out.” Dan knelt down next to Jamie’s bed. “Hi Jamie, I'm Dan.”

Jamie shyly peeked up at him through his eyelashes. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“I’ll bet,” Dan said. The day must have been hell for the ten-year-old, and the high dosage morphine was probably making the youngest Winter very woozy.

“Do you think you can answer a few questions for me?”

Jamie glanced at Phillip, silently asking a question.

“He's here to help, sweetie. He's not going to hurt you.” Phillip ran a hand through Jamie’s hair.

Dan saw the stress and worry leave the boy’s face, saw how that one simple action calmed him instantly. It was surprising how much one action can change things.

Jamie looked back at him and nodded slowly.

Dan smiled. “I'm a friend of Joseph, I'm here to help. Truly.”

Jamie looked a little less scared, but hesitance was still written across his face. 

Dan thought little of it, the child had just been stabbed, of course he wouldn’t trust unknown adults with just a reassurance.

“Could you tell me what happened, exactly?” He asked softly.

“W- with mother?” Was Jamie’s reply.

Dan nodded. “Yes. I know it's hard to talk about it, but your mother did something very very bad and we need to stop her from doing it again. Go at your own pace, with your own words.”

“I-I asked if I could stay the night at my friend Jain's house and mother said no, and-and I pushed and I shouldn't have and mother got cross-”

Dan saw Phillip’s hand grip the arm of the chair slightly, the other buried in Jamie’s curls as he continued to run his hand through his brother’s hair.

“A-and then she said I was unwanted, but I kinda already knew that-” Jamie gave a small shrug, and Joseph and Phillip sucked in a deep breath each.

Dan looked up from his notepad. “Jamie, just checking; you asked to spend the night at your friend's, she said no, she got angry, said you weren't wanted. Correct?”

Jamie nodded and Dan bit his lip. “Right. Continue, please.”

“I-I spoke back to her, I shouldn't have done but I was annoyed, a-and-” His voice quietened. “I asked her if she loved me, and she said no.”

Dan’s mind was reeling. How could a mother say that to her child? How could anyone say that to a child?

He wasn’t sure he wanted to meet Jamie’s parents now, but he knew he had to act professionally and not allow his judgement to get clouded.

“W-we started shouting, a-and then she slapped me and I told her she'd already b-broken me, she couldn't hurt me anymore, t-then she dislocated my shoulder. I-I said I was gonna leave when I turned 18 and she grabbed a knife.”

Dan’s head snapped up. “Hold on. She _what_?”

Jamie blinked slowly at him. “Grabbed a knife?”

“No no no, you said she dislocated your shoulder?”

Jamie nodded.

Dan scribbled that down, underlining it. “I can add aggression and child abuse to the list.”

Phillip had paled. “Oh my God, I didn't know she'd done that.”

Dan turned his attention back to the child in the bed. “Sorry, Jamie. Continue.”

Jamie had started to shake slightly, obviously traumatised by the events that followed. “S-she grabbed the knife a-and-"

Jamie ducked his head. “I told her that if she didn't kill me, I'd probably do it myself” He finished quietly.

Dan’s eyes widened. “You- oh.” 

_Oh shit_. He thought.

Phillip pulled Jamie into a hug, arms slipping under the wires to wrap around Jamie’s middle. “You're doing so well, sweetie.” His voice was muffled from where his head was buried in Jamie’s hair.

The child took a deep breath, clearly wanting to finish the story as quickly as possible, and honestly, Dan couldn’t blame him. His Stephen King books were nothing compared to the horror story Jamie lived every day.

“S-she gave me the knife and told me to do it, b-but I didn't, a-and she called me a weakling.”

Tears slid down Jamie’s cheeks. “T-then she took the knife back and- and- a-and-”

His breath started getting quicker and quicker, lungs desperately trying to get air into themselves as Jamie started sobbing, his face turning slightly red from lack of oxygen.

Phillip swiftly took things into his own hands, rubbing circles onto his brother’s back. “Sssh, ssh, it's okay, you're okay, just look at me, okay Jamie?”

He turned Jamie around so the younger was looking at him. “Okay, keep looking at me, Jamie.”

Phillip took Jamie’s hand, placing it on his own chest. “Follow my breaths, okay? In, out, in, out-”

Jamie started to mimic Phillip’s actions, calming down as his brother whispered reassurances in his ear.

“That's it, sweetie,” Phillip murmured against Jamie’s head. “You're doing so well.” He kissed his forehead. “So well.”

Phillip wiped the tears from Jamie’s cheeks, ‘sush’ing him gently.

Dan looked apologetic. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- um, I think I've got enough for now. Do you wanna talk about something else, or just sleep some more?”

Jamie shook his head against Phillip’s chest and Dan looked at Phillip questioningly.

“What is it, Jamie? Do you want to sleep more?” Phillip asked his brother, and Jamie nodded against his chest.

“Okay, sweetie, you can sleep.”

Jamie closed his eyes and his breathing evened out, falling asleep against Phillip’s chest.   
Phillip gently laid his brother down on the bed, covering him in the blankets once again.

“Thank you for your time, I'll have to come back tomorrow, but I've got enough to engage a real investigation,” Dan said quietly.

“Thank you, Dan.” Phillip smiled.

“It's... sweet. How you take care of him. Reminds me of my little sister.”

Phillip turned to face the DC. “You have a little sister?”

“Yeah. Well, had. She looked a bit like him. Same eyes.”

“They're gorgeous, aren't they? Shame he got them from mother. About the only thing he got from our parents, well, apart from 10 years of trauma.” 

“Icier than the coldest day of December, but I guess that's what makes them pretty.”

“We are the Winters, it’s kind of ironic, really.” Phillip snorted. “But Jamie’s are more like the fluffy snow that everyone dreams about, mother’s are the hard ice that no-one likes, the really dangerous stuff that people are terrified of.”

“And what are you? Your dad?”

Joseph nodded. “Yeah, me, Phill and our eldest brother, Matthew, have our dad's eyes.”

“Not as nice, just your average brown.” Phillip shrugged. “Jamie got all the cute genes, which makes sense, he is the baby.”

Dan smiled as Phillip ran his fingers through Jamie’s hair, the child melting into his brother’s touch. “I don't know why it took this for us to see how bad our parents were treating him. It's not like they hid it. I guess... we just didn't believe they could do something like that. Then she went and stabbed Jamie, and that is unforgivable. He doesn't deserve this, he deserves to be happy.”

Dan made a sound of agreement before remembering something. “Where's that Matthew? Shouldn't he be here?”

Joseph pulled a face. “He's at university, doubt he was even told.”

Phillip’s face darkened. “He's... a lot like our parents. He would agree with mother when she says Jamie was asking for it. Sure, maybe he spoke back, but who wouldn't in that situation? Me and Joe get to go out all the time, but Jamie doesn't, I guess he got fed up.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Jamie seems to be a sweet boy, I doubt he'd be bad-mannered.” Dan hummed.

“He wouldn't be. I have no doubts he was polite, maybe frustrated, but polite. I expect it was mother who escalated it.”

“Of course. What is he like? Jamie, I mean.”

“Jamie?” Phillip queried. “He's the sweetest boy you can imagine. He's so kind, and so smart. Our parents don't believe in him, but I've seen his schoolwork and he's so intelligent,” he smiled. “He’s going to do great things when he’s older. I'm not sure what, he'll probably change his mind a million times like I have, but it's going to be something great. He's really sweet, he would never disrespect anyone without a reason.”  
Phillip sighed. “I just wish we’d done something sooner.”

“He learned sign language to speak with his friend Jain and he's learning Irish and Scottish to speak with his other friend in his native languages,” Joseph stated.

“Wow.” Dan breathed.

“And he learnt French from Joe, and I've been teaching him some Dutch and German.” Phillip grinned.

“That kid's ten and he speaks 6 languages, what?” Dan laughed.

“And he's really good at science, and maths and he can cook and sew-mainly cuz mother made him, and he can sing, and he was great in his school play last year.” Phillip beamed.

“That kid's going places.”

“And he knows all the Kings and Queens of England.” Phillip knew he was rambling now, but he couldn’t help it, he was bursting with pride talking about his baby brother.

“Hah, forgotten most of them.” Dan quirked a smile.

“ Same, but Jamie knows them back to front, inside-out, the works.” Phillip’s face fell and he sighed. “If only our parents could see.”

“What he'd need is poetry. Usually I find it boring, but from what I hear, he might like it.”

“I do read some to him, but I think he prefers novels.” Phillip’s smile returned, thinking about the books he could bring to Jamie to make his stay in hospital a bit nicer.

“That's good too.” Dan stood up from his chair. “Well, it's getting late. I should go. Joseph,” he turned to the older brother, “thanks for calling me, I'll be back here tomorrow. I'll leave you to it.”

With that, DC Dan Scott left the hospital room.

Joseph and Phillip watch him leave.

“I hope he can get them locked up.” Phillip’s brow furrowed.

“He will, don't worry.” Joseph placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I can take first watch, if you want, while you go home and clean up, come back in the morning.”

Phillip opened his mouth to retort, before remembering he was covered in his brother’s blood, the fluid having dried on his face, hands and clothes, caking his fingernails.

‘ _Maybe I should go and clean up, and,_ ’ he thought as he yawned, ‘ _a nap sounds really good right now_.’

Begrudgingly, he turned to leave, glancing back over his shoulder at Jamie, who was still sound asleep.

Phillip smiled softly as he closed the door to room 518.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WELCOME DAN SCOTT!
> 
> This was 12 Google Doc pages, damn these chapters are getting long... 
> 
> I actually had to do some maths to see if this would work out, and I can say that it does. I can also say I never want to think about 2002 ever again (which may be an issue seeing as it's my birth year...)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and thanks to @midsomer4life for being my beta reader and RPing stuff out with me!
> 
> See you in the next chapter!


	15. Some Words They are Better in, But Some Words They are Better Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan goes to question Jamie's parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luckily for you lot, this chapter isn't as hard-hitting as the last two. 
> 
> Warnings for mentioned attempted murder.

Dan looked up at the house in front of him.

It was certainly fitting for the posh part of Cambridge; a three-story building with a large driveway and detached car garage and a walnut double front door.

Nothing that screamed ‘child neglect’ or ‘attempted murder’.

But looks can be deceiving, Dan knew that all too well.

He came to the front door and took a deep breath, raising his hand to knock.

He rapped three times, the sound echoing throughout the house.

The doors opened, almost ominously, and Dan gulped, finding himself face-to-face with who he could only assume was Ignacio Winter.

Ignacio Winter was tall, only slightly short than Dan, actually, with greying brown hair, muddy brown eyes and a scowl that seemed set in place.

“Yes?” He ground out.

Dan showed him his warrant card. “I’m DC Scott, Cambridgeshire Constabulary. I assume you’re Mr Winter?”

“How may I help you, Constable?”

“It's about the incident with your son. May I come in?”

Mr Winter seemed reluctant, but allowed Dan in nonetheless.

“Who is it, honey?” A voice called from somewhere inside the house.

Ignacio led Dan into what he assumed was the living room, where a woman, maybe slightly younger than Ignacio, was sat, a book in her hand. She had long blonde hair and the same icy blue eyes Jamie had.

But this time, Dan wasn’t awed by them, he found them hard, cold almost, not at all like the soft, playful ice of Jamie’s, but a harsher kind of ice, hellbent on destruction.

This must be Caitlin Winter, the woman who had put Jamie in hospital, according to her sons.

Dan had no doubts that any of them would lie, especially as little Jamie had to be talked down from a panic attack when asked to recount what had happened.

That wasn’t a fake panic attack, Dan had seen enough to know this one was real, and quite possibly not the first one Jamie had ever had. 

‘ _ Nor _ ,’ he thought, ‘ _ will it be the last, not with what his parents had done to him. _ ’ 

“Some police officer, wants to talk about the rat.” Ignacio grunted, sitting down in the chair opposite his wife.

“Oh.” Caitlin sighed, putting the bookmark in her book. She turned to Dan, who had been standing awkwardly by the doorway, notepad in hand. “Sit down, dear, we won’t bite.”

‘ _ Maybe not, but you might stab me, _ ’ Dan thought.

“What can we help you with?” Ignacio asked.

“It's about your version of the facts, Mrs Winter. Things aren't really linking altogether.” 

Caitlin blinked. “I'm sorry?”

‘ _ The audacity. _ ’ Dan thought.

“Your sons, especially Phillip, are giving a very different version of the incident, that doesn't quite match yours, I was hoping you may help us clear it up.”

“What are they saying?” Caitlin rolled her eyes.

“That you stabbed James.” Dan stopped for dramatic effect. “Among other things.” He added.

“Outrageous!” Caitlin spat. “Tell me, officer, why would I do such a thing? James is my son, my  _ youngest  _ son, why would I stab him?”

“That would be up to you to tell me, Mrs Winter. Phillip told us he came in the kitchen and saw you digging a knife in James’ stomach. Also, both Joseph and Phillip told us that both of you had told them that you tried to kill little James multiple times in the past.”

“So they're spreading lies about us now?” Came Ignacio’s voice from the other chair.

Caitlin reached over and patted her husband’s hand. “Honey, calm down, they must just be playing a prank. Not a very funny one, but a prank nonetheless.”

Dan sat up straight. “Sir, Ma’am, I do not think they are. All of this is anything but funny. Kids can be cruel, but not that much, especially your sons, I've met them.”

“Well, officer,” Caitlin sat back in her seat. “We gave our statements when James was taken to the hospital. There was an intruder, James confronted them, the intruder stabbed him then fled, we called the ambulance and James was taken to hospital.” She glared at him. “That's what happened.”

Dan smirked to himself and pulled out a tape recorder. He placed the tape recorder on the table and pressed the play button.

Caitlin’s voice came over the recorder.

“ _ Not the first, and won't be the last. _ ”

The Winters froze.

“ _ What was the first? _ ” A voice Dan recognised at Phillip’s asked.

“ _ The day he was born. They wrap the baby in so many blankets, who'd have known he'd been smothered? _ ”

Dan watched the Winters’ faces as the tape played, exposing their dirty deeds to the world.

“ _ When he was a year old. Caitlin was unavailable, so I gave him his bath. I held him underwater. I forgot your grandma was visiting that day, and it would've been too dangerous to do that when she was there. He coughed up his lungs, but still alive _ .

_ The number of times we dropped him on his head, you'd have thought he'd break his neck. But it never happened. That thing was like a rubber ball, couldn't destroy it no matter how hard we tried. Drowning, suffocation, hell, we even let his wounds get infected to see if that would do anything. _ ”

Dan stopped the recording.

“You were saying?” He asked, putting the recorder back into his pocket.

Neither Winter said anything, both started at the ground, whether in shame of what they’d done, or because they’d finally been caught, he couldn’t tell.

Dan sighed, stood up and put his notepad and pen back into his pocket. “I think we're done. Now if you may follow me.”

Ignacio and Caitlin got up and followed Dan to the front of the house where uniformed police cars were waiting.

What Dan was unaware of, was the Winters had already planned this. They knew Phillip and Joseph would spill the beans about them, so they had spent the night planning for several different outcomes.

Caitlin nodded at her husband, and Ignacio picked up an old paperweight on the side table as they passed.

Caitlin grabbed Dan’s arms and pinned them to his sides.

Dan let out a cry of shock. “Wha-”

Ignacio raised his arm and whacked Dan across the head with the paperweight, Dan falling to the floor like a ragdoll.

Ignacio dropped the paperweight and the two started running.

They ran into the woods behind the house, attempting to make a break for it.

Two uniformed officers had seen them and took off after them, the athletic nature of their job allowing them to catch up with the Winters in seconds, grabbing them and locking handcuffs around their wrists.

The Winters were escorted back to the house and into separate cars. The cars took them to the police station to await further interrogation.

In the house, Dan began to stir.

“Yeah, we're gonna need an ambulance at the Winter household.” He heard a voice say. “Yes, another one.”

Dan grunted and tried to sit up. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

Dan groaned. “Oi, not so loud.”

“Sorry, sir. The ambulance is on its way, stay still.”

“I'm fine, really.” Dan waved him off.

“Sir, stay seated.”

The ambulance arrived and a paramedic knelt down next to Dan.

“I swear I'm fine!” Dan mumbled.

The paramedic raised an eyebrow. “Just making sure you don't have a concussion, or need stitches.” She sat back on her heels. “Hmm, might get away with surgical glue for now. But if it opens up again, do directly to the hospital.”

“Right. I can get back to work?”

The paramedic sighed. “Yes, DC Scott, you should be fine. But if it opens up-”

“I go directly to the hospital, I heard. I will don't worry.” Dan cut her off.

The paramedic gave him one last check over before giving him the all-clear.

Dan got back into his car and drove to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnnnnnnd that's those two out of the picture now! Yay!
> 
> Like I said, these next lot of chapters aren't going to be as long as chapter 13, which is probably a good thing, to be honest.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and thanks to @midsomer4life for being my beta reader and RPing stuff out with me!
> 
> See you in the next chapter!


	16. I'm a Harbinger, I Cannot Lie, I Will Change the Colour of Your Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan goes back to the hospital to visit Jamie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @MIDSOMER4LIFE. HAVE A GREAT DAY HUN! LOVE YOU LOTS!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter, love!
> 
> Warnings for mentioned attempted murder, mentioned child abuse, mentioned car crash and mentioned suicidal thoughts

It was half an hour’s drive to Addenbrooke's Hospital from the Winter household.

Dan made his way through the maze of corridors to room 518, where Jamie Winter was lying in bed, reading a book.

Dan couldn’t see exactly what it was from where he was standing, but Jamie seemed engrossed in it.

He smiled and entered the room, closing the door behind him. “Hey, Jamie.”

Jamie looked up, and Dan was finally able to see those gorgeous blue eyes without them being clouded by medication.

“Hi.” Jamie said shyly.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Better, thank you.”

‘ _Wow,_ ’ Dan thought, ‘ _this kid’s got better manners than some of the adults I work with._ ’

“Floating's off the table?” He smirked.

That earned him a shy smile. “Yeah.”

“I've got good news. Your parents have been arrested for what they've done. We'd just need your testimony - with more details- to build up the file.”

“Okay…” Jamie put his book on the side table and Dan finally got a look at the cover - _Coraline_ by Neil Gaiman.

‘ _Good choice, kid_ ’ Dan thought.

“I told you what happened, though.” Jamie’s voice brought him back to reality.

Dan sat down in the chair next to Jamie’s bed. “I know you did, that helped us a lot, Jamie, but I'd need the full, _full_ story, not just what happened last night.”

“What do you want to know?” Jamie asked.

“How was your mother before? Your father?” Dan took out his notepad and pen, flipping to a new page.

“Much the same, really.” Jamie shrugged. “I don't really remember anything as bad as this, but they've definitely landed me in hospital before.”

“And in everyday life?”

“They'd tell me I was a disappointment, that I was a bad son, beat me for the smallest of things, not feed me-”

Dan had to bite his lip to stop himself from exclaiming in horror. What kind of parent doesn’t feed their child?

It would explain Jamie’s weight, the poor kid looked like a twig, almost like he could be snapped in half.

“My bedroom was the basement, which I think says everything.” Jamie rubbed the back of his head nervously.

Dan nodded, writing everything down on his notepad.

“Is there anything else?”

“Jamie, I'm so sorry to ask you this, truly I'd prefer not but it's the procedure. I need to know what happened after your mother grabbed the knife, gave it to you and insulted you.”

Jamie bit his lip, clearly hesitant to talk about it. “She-she called me a weakling and gave me the knife. I didn't do anything with it, so she grabbed it out of my hand, said I was so useless I couldn't kill myself, then stabbed me.”

“What's the last thing you remember?”

“She-she kept pushing the knife in, t-then Phill walked in, there was screaming, I don't know what about. T-then mother tore the knife out and just stood th-there while Phill was talking to me.”

Jamie’s breath hitched and he grabbed his stomach, pain contorting his face.

“Jamie?” Dan asked.

Jamie looked up at him through teary eyes. “N-no, don't hurt me, please! I'm sorry!” He wailed, tears streaming down his cheeks, breaths coming in short, terrified gasps.

Dan grabbed his hands, attempting to stop Jamie from flailing them around. “Jamie it's okay, it's Dan, I'm not going to hurt you.” He soothed.

“I-I'm sorry, it won't happen again!” The child bawled, struggling in Dan’s grip.

“Jamie, look at me, look at me in the eyes. It's fine, everything's okay, I'm not going to hurt you.”

Jamie looked up at Dan, tears still streaking down his cheeks. 

“Good. Who am I?” Dan asked gently.

Jamie shook his head. “I-I don't know, please don't hurt me.” He whimpered.

“Jamie, it's Dan, I'm Joseph's friend, remember? It's fine, you're okay.”

This wasn’t working, Jamie was still terrified, pools of tears welling up in his eyes, making the blue sparkle even more.

Dan got up from his chair and moved closer to Jamie.

Jamie whimpered again. “N-no! Please! Don't hurt me, I'm sorry!”

Dan slowly reached a hand out, gently carding it through Jamie’s hair, the way he saw Phillip do the night before.

Jamie froze for a second, before leaning into Dan as the DC continued to run his fingers through the child’s hair.

“Breathe... Think of anything that makes you happy and breathe…” Dan whispered, pulling Jamie into his chest, wrapping his other arm around the child’s middle to hold him closer.

Jamie’s breathing started to slow, head leaning back into Dan’s touch, eyes fluttering closed as he calmed.

“There... Shh, it's alright... You're safe.” Dan consoled, letting Jamie settle into his hold, resting his chin on top of Jamie’s head as the child’s breathing evened out.

  
  


He felt Jamie shift against him, moving away from his hold slightly.

“Sorry about that, heh.”

Dan tilted Jamie’s head up so he could look him in the eyes. “It's okay. Never apologise for what you can't control.” He paused for a second, wiping Jamie’s tears off his face. “I know how it's like.”

“Y-You do?”

Dan paused “I had a sister, Lily, and my parents. They died in a car crash when I was 11. I'm the only survivor. Now I've got scars all over my back because I tried to protect my sister by shielding her, I still have panic attacks and nightmares.”

“I'm sorry.” Jamie’s voice was quiet.

“Don't be, it's not your fault.” Dan ran his hand through Jamie’s hair.

The two were quiet for a moment before Jamie spoke up again.

“You've probably seen mine, what my parents did?”

Dan sucked in a breath. “I did. As a police officer, I must remain neutral. As a human being with a knowledge of traumatic events, I'd love to have punched them both in the face.”

Jamie smiled, then winced.

“What?” Dan panicked, worried he’d hurt Jamie.

“Just some old wounds, they hurt from time to time. Never really got them sorted.” The child answered.

Dan wavered for a second. “Care to show me?” He asked.

Jamie pulled away from him slightly, pulling his pyjama top up and exposing his back to Dan.

Dan covered his mouth in shock. 

Jamie’s back was a mess of scars, welts and bruises, some fresh, others years old.

“Most don't hurt much anymore, but there's some- more surface-level where the nerves are- that hurt sometimes.”

“Dear Lord…” Dan muttered.

“Dan?”

The profanity slipped out before he could help himself. “Bastards.”   
His eyes widened. “Shit- I mean- no don't repeat what I just said, it slipped out accidentally.”

Jamie shrugged. “I've heard worse. Kinda hard to escape when you father screams profanities at you and throws half-empty beer bottles at you every day.”

“I guess,” Dan mumbled. “Well, I guess you earned the right to see mine.”

He stood up and pulled the back of his shirt up, exposing the scars from his own accident.

Jamie’s eyes widened.

“Are-are these from the crash?” He asked.

“Yes. I turned my back to the other car to shield Lily. Took most of the blow.” He dropped his shirt back down. “My parents died almost immediately. Lily died minutes after, her head injuries were too severe. Whereas surgeons almost pulled me back from the dead after 11 hours of surgery. I should be dead, but by some chance or misfortune, I don't know, I'm still here.”

Jamie said nothing, Dan didn’t expect him to. 

“Jamie, promise me something please.”

“Of course.”

“Don't let all of this get to you, to your core. Don't make the same mistake I did.”

Jamie turned around to face Dan. “What do you mean?”

“I'm not strong at all, you know. I'm rather weak. The crash, losing my family, it-it ate me, from the inside. I cried almost every day, holding on old photos and memories. Don't get me wrong, memories are important. But... Our past should never define our future. That was my mistake. I thought that because of what happened I won't ever be able to have a normal life. I ran away from a lot of foster families, just to have the feeling of escaping, breathing. I didn't care if I healed or not. I thought I didn't need it. I've met some people that helped me, and now…” Dan took a deep breath. “Now I can breathe normally. I don't have to take sleeping pills every night. I still have the scars, emotional and physical, but they've slowly become less painful. So please, heal. Anywhere you want with who you want, but heal. This is so important.”

“But you are strong, Dan. Even after everything, you're still here, you chose to stay and help people instead of running away from your past. You may not have healed fully, and I don't think you ever will, but you don't have to, just enough to keep going, for your parents, for your sister, for yourself.”

Dan started at the child sitting in front of him. “Damn kid, that was deep.”

He smiled slightly. “I'm proud of you, that's the good way of thinking.”

Jamie gave a small smile back. “It's what I try to tell myself every day, when it gets too much.” He laughed bitterly. “It works, sometimes. Most of the time I find myself looking at a knife, or some pills, or a rope, or something, anything that would wash the pain away.”

Dan looked down at the bed. “I... I shouldn't be talking about this with you. I shouldn't be talking about depression and near-death experiences with a ten-year-old.”

Jamie’s reply surprised him.

“Does it help?” He asked.

“Yeah…” Dan mumbled.

“Then it doesn't matter.” Jamie sat back against the foot of the bed, looking Dan in the eye.

“You truly are the sweetest, Jamie.” Dan smiled.

Jamie smiled back. “I try.” He shrugged.

Dan stood up, allowing Jamie to have his bed back. 

As soon as he stood up, a sharp pain shot through his head and he gasped, gripping the bed’s railing.

Jamie’s head snapped up. “Dan?” He asked.

“Huh?” Dan raised his head to look at Jamie.

“Are you okay?”

The DC nodded, the action making the pain worse. “Yeah, yeah, just a little headache.”

‘Little’ was putting it lightly. It felt as if someone was using his head as a drum, the banging getting increasingly louder, the pounding getting worse as time went on.

Jamie looked unconvinced at his answer, but said nothing more on the subject.

Dan reached out for the chair, attempting to sit down and ended up falling into the seat.

“DAN?” Came Jamie’s panicked cry.

“I'm okay, don't worry, I'm fine-” He paused, frowning.

W-was the room swirling? Was he on a carousel? Or a roundabout?

“Is-is the room swirling or is it just me?” He asked.

Jamie pressed the ‘call nurse’ button on the remote by his bedside.

Dan’s pallor had paled significantly and he looked around the room almost as if he were in a daze.

The door was flung open and a nurse rushed in, flanked by Joseph and Phillip.

Jamie pointed to Dan, slumped in his seat, fingers massaging his temples.

“He needs help.” 

The nurse entered Dan’s vision. “Sir, can you tell me what the problem is?”

“Nothing much really, just got one hell of a headache. Gimme a few minutes, I'll be fine.”

The nurse nodded, and left with a “I'll get you some paracetamol.”

Phillip turned back to Jamie, running a hand through his hair. “You okay, sweetie?”

Jamie nodded, gaze still fixed on Dan.

“You sure you okay, mate? You're paler than a white sheet.” Joseph stated, looking at Dan.

“Joseph, I'm fine, I'm just dizzy.” Dan waved him off.

“Uhuh. Sure.” Joseph crossed the room and opened a window to let some air in.

Dan’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he fell from his chair, head thumping against Jamie’s bedframe, making the bed clang, Dan’s head recoiling off the metal and landing on the ground with a ‘thud’.

Phillip and Joseph whirled around.

“DAN!” Jamie cried at the same time Joseph let out a “MATE!”

Joseph and Phillip rushed over to sit Dan back in the chair, the DC’s head lolling as he was pushed back into his seat while Jamie pushed the ‘call nurse’ button again.

Joseph patted Dan’s cheek in an effort to wake him up. “Dan, mate, I need you to wake up.”

The nurse returned, a packet of paracetamol tablets in his hand, looking confused at the beeping from his pager.

“What's wrong?” He asked, setting the packet down on Jamie’s bedside table, glancing at Jamie’s monitors.

“He fainted.” Joseph gestured to Dan.

“How long ago?”

“No more than ten seconds,” Joseph said.

“He should be coming round soon. Did he hit his head when he fell?”

“I think so,” Joseph tilted Dan’s head forward slightly. The hair on the back of his head was matted with blood, a small trickle stemming from a gash from where he’d hit it on the edge of the bedframe. “Yeah, look, blood. We didn't see it coming, we hadn't caught him.”

The nurse got up. “He may need to be checked over by a doctor then. I'll go find one.”

He left the room and returned a few seconds later, a doctor in tow, who gave the DC a once-over.

“Let's move him to another room so I can properly examine him.” She said, gesturing for Joseph and Phillip to help Dan to his feet.

The doctor came back a few minutes later, looking at her clipboard. “He doesn't seem to have injured himself too badly, we'll need to check for a concussion when he wakes up, but other than that, he seems fine.”

“Concussion? The floor here isn't that hard.” Joseph raised an eyebrow.

“You said he hit the ground with quite some force, yes?” The doctor asked.

“Yes, but not enough to provoke a concussion. To hurt his head a bit, yes, but he didn't hit a brick wall.”

“It's just a precaution.” With that, both the doctor and the nurse left the room.

  
  


Amidst everything, both brothers failed to notice Jamie slipping out of the bed and out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming to the end of the 2002-era chapters, just this one and the next, then we're back to 2020, you'll be pleased to know


	17. I Got Tired of Waiting, Wonderin' if You Were Ever Comin' Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie looks for Dan in the hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last 2002-era chapter, we're moving back to the future (heh) in the next one
> 
> I don't think there's any warnings for this chapter, it's mostly fluffy, but there is a bit of fainting, so if you don't like fainting, then be wary. It's not long, but it's there  
> (Then again, if you're reading this story, you've seen much, much worse than fainting)

Jamie padded down the whitewashed halls of the hospital, pushing open a door and peering into the room.

He closed the door and moved down the corridor, glancing into the next room before closing the door again.

He opened one more door, and upon seeing Dan laid in the bed, entered the room, shutting the door behind him and clambering into the chair next to the bed.

  
  
  


Phillip looked around Jamie’s room. He pushed down on the handle of the bathroom door and found it unlocked.

“Joseph, have you seen Jamie?” He asked his older brother.

A snore answered him. Phillip turned around to find that Joseph had collapsed onto the small sofa by the window using his arm as a pillow.

Phillip laughed, remembering that Joseph had been on Jamie duty the night before. “Yeah, you deserve some sleep.”

Leaving his brother to sleep, he left the room in search of his younger brother.

Phillip walked down the hall, peering into each room he passed.

He looked into the room at the end of the hall- 510- and found his brother sitting in a chair next to the bed Dan was laying in.

Rolling his eyes slightly, Phillip entered the room.

“Jamie, there you are.” 

Jamie looked up at him, ice blue eyes widened in surprise.

Phillip picked his brother up, the small boy fitting into his hold far too easily. “What are you doing out of bed, silly? You're not meant to be up yet.”

The youngest Winter looked back at the bed. “But Dan-”

“He'll be okay, he just needs some rest, as do you. He'll come and visit you when he's awake.”

There was a hint of motion for the bed, and Dan stirred slightly.

“Dan?” Jamie whispered.

Dan’s head turned towards Jamie, but the man made no indication he had heard him.

Jamie looked at his brother and Philip sighed, moving closer so Jamie could reach out and pat Dan’s hand.

A door slammed somewhere down the corridor. Dan flinched and Jamie grabbed his hand in fright.

Phillip sat Jamie down at the foot of Dan’s bed. “I'm gonna go get Joe, okay? You stay here, don't run off again.”

He left the room and headed back down the corridor to room 518.

Joseph was still snoring away on the sofa. Phillip whacked him upside the head.

“Wake up, you lazy bug.”

Joseph awoke with a start. “What- breakfast- what-who?” He stuttered.

Phillip grabbed his arm and hurled him to his feet. “Come on.”

“What's going on?”

“Jamie went to see Dan, c'mon.” Phillip had managed to half-drag his brother someway across the room.

Joseph perked up. “How is he?”

“Dan or Jamie?”

“Both, preferably.”

“Well Jamie can walk, so there should be minimal nerve damage, hopefully nothing long-lasting, but we'll see what the doctors say, and Dan's just waking up.”

“Okay.”

Phillip opened the door of room 510 and the two entered the room, Jamie looking up at them.

Dan mumbled something incoherent from his place on the bed, turning his head to face the wall.

Phillip went over to Jamie. “How are you, little one?”

Jamie raised an eyebrow at him and Phillip gave him a look back. “Hey, I'm your brother, I can be concerned!”

Joseph, meanwhile, had walked over to Dan’s bed and was sat beside him. “Dan? Dan, can you hear me?”

Dan turned his head towards Joseph. “Joseph?” He mumbled.

“Hey.” Joseph smiled.

Both Phillip and Jamie looked over.

“Dan?” Jamie asked, hopeful.

“What happened?” Dan slurred, not having heard Jamie.

“You fainted, gave yourself a concussion.” Phillip explained. “Why didn't you say anything, Dan?”

Dan’s face turned slightly green. “Joseph-”

“Phil, the bin!” Joseph yelled at his brother and Phillip grabbed the bin next to him, shoving it under Dan’s head as the DC puked his guts out.

Phillip grimaced and picked Jamie up so he wouldn’t get splashed by the vomit. Jamie wriggled a little in his hold, not enjoyed being picked up like a teddy bear, but made no serious effort to escape.

Dan finished puking and Joseph handed him a glass of water, rubbing his back as the DC drank.   
“It's okay, mate, it's okay.”

Dan put the glass down. “What happened?” He slurred.

“You fainted and gave yourself a concussion,” Phillip answered.

“Is that why my head hurts?”

“Yes.”

Dan started, unblinkingly, into thin air for a moment.

“Dan?” Joseph tried.

Dan turned his head to look at him and blinked in response.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital.”

Joseph nodded.

“Dan?” Jamie asked again, wriggling slightly in Phillip’s hold. Phillip adjusted his grip so Jamie wouldn’t fall.

“Jamie?” Dan struggled to sit up. “What are you doing here?”

“ I came to see you.”

“Why? I'm fine-” Dan tried to get out of bed, but Joseph pushed him back down.

“Nope, nope, nope, you are not doing that.”

“Speaking of,” Phillip said, looking at the child in his arms. “We should probably get you back into bed before the doctors realise you're gone.”

“Actually-” Joseph grunted, struggling to keep Dan on the bed. “ If you could help me for a second-”

Phillip put Jamie down on the chair next to the bed and went to help his older brother. “Dan, you've got to stay in bed.”

Dan struggled against them, but his strength was clearly diminishing.

“Try and get some sleep, Dan,” Phillip told him.

“But I'm fine-” Dan argued.

“Dan-” Phillip grunted, trying to keep Dan down. “Jamie will still be here when you wake up. You need to rest.”

Dan stopped struggling and relaxed, eyes closed.

“Dan?” Phillip asked.

Dan pitched forward, slumping against the brothers.

“Whoah whoah whoah, hang in there,” Joseph said and the two pushed Dan back down onto the bed.

“Well, that's one way of falling asleep,” Phillip stated, looking down at the sleeping DC.

There was a small ‘ _thud_ ’ behind them and they turned around to see Jamie had fallen off the chair, landing on the floor face-first, fast asleep.

“I guess it's bedtime for you as well then.” Phillip picked his brother up and gave him a quick check-over, and with no visible injures, returned him to room 518, calling the nurse to reattach the wires Jamie had pulled off when he’d gone to see Dan, making up the excuse he’d pulled them off in his sleep.

The nurse didn’t question it, probably having dealt with this sort of this thing before, and just reattached the wries, checked Jamie’s vitals and lessened the dose of morphine before leaving.

Joseph had slumped into the chair once again, exhausted.

Phillip regarded him with raised eyebrows. “Why don't you go home and get some sleep? I'll stay with Jamie.”

Joseph shook his head. “I'm good, thanks.”

His eyes slipped closed and he awoke instantly with a jerk. “Could you fetch me a coffee?” He smiled nervously at his brother.

Phillip rolled his eyes but took the wallet Joseph held out at him and left the room in search of a cafe.

He returned with two coffees and a selection of cakes to find Joseph passed out in the chair, snoring so loud Phillip was surprised he hadn’t woken Jamie up.

Phillip placed Joseph’s coffee on the counter next to Joseph and settled on the sofa next to the window, drinking his own coffee and eating a slice of cake.

_Knock_. _Knock_. 

Phillip put his coffee down and went to open the door.

“Hey.” Dan smiled.

“Dan? You're meant to be resting!” Phillip scolded the older man lightly, allowing him into the room.

“I’m okay now, I'm really feeling good, no woozy, still a bit of a headache but that's fine.”

Phillip rolled his eyes. “You and Jamie are literally two peas in a pod.”

“‘So nice to see you up and well, Dan’ would have been a nicer answer.” Dan snarked, sitting down next to Phillip on the visitor’s sofa.

“Of course, it's good to see you, but you should be resting.”

Jamie stirred slightly on the bed, his eyes blinking open.

“Jamie?” Phillip asked, setting his coffee down again.

Jamie turned his head towards them, looking slightly surprised at seeing Dan sitting next to his brother.

“Dan?” He croaked slightly.

“Hey, kid.” Dan smiled.

“I thought you were sleeping.” Jamie mumbled tiredly.

“Yeah, I was, but I said to myself ‘bring yourself up and say hello to Jamie’, and so I did.”

“Why?”

“Well, I guess you were worrying a bit. Same for you, Phillip.”

“Well you did just up and faint, and give yourself a concussion, I think we're allowed to worry,” Phillip grumbled into his coffee.

“That's what I'm saying-” Dan saw Joseph passed out in the chair. “Has anyone here not dropped like a firefly?”

Phillip drained the last of his coffee. “Yeah, Joe sent me home last night to sleep while he was on babysitting duty-”

“I’m not a baby!” Jamie exclaimed.

“No, but you're the youngest, therefore baby.” Dan ruffled his hair.

Jamie grumbled.

“It's not shameful!” Dan smiled.

He stood up. “Well, I better go back to my room, else I think your brother is going to kill me.”

“I won't, but the doctors might.” Phillip shrugged.

“Well, see you later, and tell that big lazy bear over here to come and visit when he's awake.”

Jamie and Phillip nodded, and Dan left the room, pulling the door to behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, back to 2020, the year of fuckery.
> 
> Grammarly keeps wanting to change "Dan" to "Dean" for some reason, and I'm like 'WRONG FANDOM'
> 
> I'm not planning on having too many more chapters for this, so we should be coming near the end, maybe 3 or so chapters left.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you in the next one.


	18. Everything is Changing, Everything is Changing Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sarah's reactions to Jamie's story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to 2020!
> 
> .....
> 
> The only time you're gonna hear that
> 
> Warnings for mentioned attempted murder

Jamie collapsed against the pillows, exhausted.

John and Sarah sat in shock, mouths dropped wide open.

They had no idea Jamie’s childhood had been like that, waking up every day, worrying it might be his last, scared what his parents would do, how the day might end.

How had they not seen it before?

“Did…” John’s voice trailed off. He gulped to get some feeling back into his mouth. “Did they at least go to prison for that?”

Jamie nodded. “Life sentence.”

“No less than what they deserve,” Sarah mumbled, anger and disgust clear on her face.

How could any parent do that to their child? And be proud of it?

She could not imagine even thinking about hurting Betty, let alone actually trying to outright  _ murder  _ her.

Nor could she ever imagine wanting to hurt Jamie, he was too much like a son to her and John.

It was horrifying, the way some parents treated their children. Wanted or unwanted, no child should live in fear of their parents.

Life in prison was not enough for those bastards. They deserved much, much,  _ much  _ worse.

But, justice had been served, at least they had been put away so they couldn’t hurt Jamie any more.

Sarah wanted nothing more than to take all the pain of Jamie’s past away, rewrite his story so he got the childhood he deserved, but she knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t possible, what’s done is done. All she could do was take the young man into her arms and tell him it would be alright, that he was safe, they couldn’t hurt him anymore, that he would be protected.

And damn well he was going to be, Sarah would make sure of it.

“What happened after?” She asked.

Jamie was ten, he would have to be taken into the care system, did he go into foster care or adoption, or would a family member step up?

“They asked Matthew first, but he refused, and they said Joseph couldn’t at the time since he was still in school, so my uncle was approached. He agreed to at first, but it was clear he was only doing it because he had to.”

John and Sarah winced. 

“What was your uncle like?” John asked quietly.

Jamie shrugged. “Didn’t see much of him.” He said. “If he wasn’t at work, he was probably in the pub. Was always out of the house before us and back well after midnight. Phill and Joesph did most of the housekeeping and even after Joseph went to uni, he sent deliveries to the house, I assume Phill kept him updated on stuff.”

Jamie’s voice started to become scratchy, so John passed him a glass of water. The DS gulped it down, the cool liquid soothing his aching throat.

Jamie placed the glass back on the bedside cabinet and continued. “I left when I was 18,” He let out a short laugh. “Just as I promised mother. I went to university in Bath, studied Criminology. I suppose that experience was what made me want to be a police officer. I got my Master’s and moved to London, joined the MET, and, well, you know the rest.” Jamie finished.

The moment Jamie finished talked, Sarah threw her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace. Jamie stiffened, surprised, but soon melted into the hug, his own arms reaching up to clutch at Sarah’s back, his face buried in her shoulder.

John moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around both his sergeant and his wife, pulling Jamie back so the young man was leaning against his chest and gently carding his fingers through Jamie’s hair, feeling the young man relax against him.

Jamie’s eyes fluttered closed and the sergeant sagged against his chest, falling asleep within minutes. 

John gently pressed a kiss against Jamie’s temple, Jamie’s head unconsciously turning towards the action.

How long they stayed like that didn’t matter, not that John would know exactly how long, all that mattered was that Jamie was safe and loved.

As he would be, as long as the Barnabys would live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end of this shit now guys, just 2 chapters left
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you in the next one.


	19. There’s no Pleasure, There’s no Joy, it’s Just the Story of a Boy Who Lost His Way, into Shadows Strayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weeks that follow Jamie's story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe I had an order for fluffiness and sibling bonding after all that pain and angst I gave you?

Over the following weeks, Jamie’s health, both physically and mentally, improved.

He'd been allowed out of bed on the condition he took it easy and stayed off his feet as much as possible.

John had reluctantly given him some paperwork after Jamie had assured him he was fine to do it, but other than a sign a few files, there was little the DS could actually do.

He'd taken to baking with Betty in the kitchen, the two of them somehow managing to make something that looked like cookies, and didn't taste half bad either. Over the weeks leading up to Christmas, the two had perfected gingerbread and sugar cookies, and Jamie had a Christmas cake maturing in the cupboard that John and Sarah didn't know about.

John and Sarah had taken him to see Betty in her school's nativity play, and he hadn't missed the face-splitting grin that crossed John's face the minute Betty stepped on stage, videotaping the entire performance.

As soon as she could, Betty had crossed the playground and grabbed Jamie's hand, excitedly jabbering about the play.

He'd been paying so much attention to Betty he'd missed the smile on Betty's teacher's face as John and Sarah waved to let her know they were taking Betty home, or the matching grins on John and Sarah's faces.

Betty had fallen asleep on his lap in the car ride home, John having stopped to pick up some Indian take-out for dinner.

Sarah twisted around in the passenger seat and smiled at him while he absent-mindedly ran his fingers through Betty's hair, something in the back of his mind remembering how his own brothers did it to him as a child.

Even as an adult, he found it calming.

Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone.

Betty had taken to clinging onto him, especially in public, and a few people had complimented John and Sarah on their ‘children’ getting along so well.

Not that John and Sarah corrected them.

While they may not have birthed him, as far as they were concerned, Jamie was their son. 

As Christmas drew closer, Jamie found himself dragged into the traditions on the Barnaby household- decorating the house, helping John put the lights up, going carol singing and Christmas shopping, fighting with that  _ goddamned tree _ -

He’d lifted Betty up so she could place the angel on the top of the tree, the little girl giggling and squealing.

Sarah had dragged him into Causton town centre one afternoon, picking out presents for co-workers, family members and Betty’s friends and teacher.

It had been a chilly day and the light layer of snow that dressed the ground was more like icing sugar on a cake than something you could make a snowman out of.

The three had dressed accordingly, Betty slapping a polar bear hat on Jamie’s head as he was tying his laces, earning a laugh from Sarah.

(Jamie had gotten his own back by wrapping a scarf around Betty’s neck just as they were leaving.)

Of course, Betty had taken Jamie’s gloved hand in her own mittened one and clung onto him the entire time, happily pointing at various things in the shops, merrily chatting away as the three made their way around town.

It did begin to snow closer to Christmas and the Saturday before the holiday, Betty dragged Jamie and her parents outside to the garden to play in the snow.

The afternoon was spent mucking around in the snow, building a snowman and having the obligatory family snowball fight.

By the time they were finished, they were all covered head-to-toe in snow and shivering like there was no tomorrow. 

They left their snow-covered outerwear in the garage and went into the kitchen for some hot chocolate.

Hot chocolate with heaps of whipped cream and marshmallows. Unhealthy as hell, but goddamn delicious.

They’d spent the rest of the day wrapped in cosy pyjamas, watching movies on the TV.

Betty had fallen asleep in Jamie’s lap midway through the third movie, and Jamie had not long followed, head resting against the sofa cushion, John and Sarah stifling giggles and taking photos.

  
  


It was something they could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jamie is Betty's big brother and you can't change my mind.
> 
> Next chapter's the last one (I bet you're all glad about that, heh), and it's a Christmas special!


	20. Angels We Have Heard on High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Barnabys celebrate Jamie's birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
> 
> This is it, the finale of I May Fall!
> 
> Thank you all so much for joining me on this journey, it's been one hell of a ride
> 
> So for the last time, please, enjoy the chapter.

Barnaby Christmasses were hectic, even before Jamie’s injury.

This year was no exception.

Betty had come bounding into his room at 6 am sharp and dragged him into the kitchen to help her make pancakes for John and Sarah.

Well, Jamie did most of the cooking while Betty sat on the counter eating chocolate chips from the bag. 

John stopped in the doorway, watching his daughter and his sergeant with a smile on his face. He leaned against the doorframe as Betty shoved another handful of chocolate chips in her mouth, completely ignoring Jamie’s splutters of protest that “those are for the pancakes, Betty!”

He let out a snort that stopped the two in their tracks. As if in sync, they turned to face John, who let out a louder laugh at Jamie’s dishevelled state.

The young man was covered head-to-toe in flour, the powder having gotten in his hair and matching streaks on his cheeks that looked suspiciously like it had been smeared there by little fingers.

“S-Sir!” Jamie squeaked. “Wha- what are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Winter.” John smirked as he stepped into the kitchen.

“We made breakfast!” Betty squealed, pointing at the stack of pancakes on the counter next to the stove.

“Smells delicious, baby. How about you go and wake your mum so we can eat them?”

Betty tugged at Jamie’s pyjama sleeve and he lifted her off the counter, setting her on the floor. As soon as her feet were on the ground, she was off, bounding up the stairs on a mission.

John turned back to Jamie, still covered in flour and turning the stove off, sliding the last pancake onto a plate.

It just felt… right somehow.

John wasn't sure why, but it did. Jamie was as much part of the Barnabys as Betty or Paddy were, or Sykes had been.

It felt right for Jamie to be standing in the kitchen barefoot and in rather old pyjamas, covered in flour while Betty sat giggling on the counter.

It felt like they were a proper family, like Jamie had always been in their lives.

Like Jamie's past never existed.

"Sir?" Jamie's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

John titled his head to look at his sergeant, his mouth open to reply when footsteps sounded on the stairs and Betty’s excited voice carried down as she dragged Sarah into the kitchen, her mother laughing at Betty’s eagerness.

After breakfast, Sarah ushered Jamie into the ensuite of the guest bedroom to wash the flour off himself while John took Betty upstairs for her bath.

Half an hour later everyone was in the living room, all wearing hideous Christmas jumpers, John and Sarah sipping coffee from their mugs while Betty had clambered into Jamie’s lap, his own mug sitting on the coffee table next to them.

Presents were exchanged, Betty practically bouncing on her toes as she handed a neatly-wrapped parcel to Jamie with the tag "from Betty" stuck on.

"I wonder who this could be from?" Jamie smirked.

"Open it! Open it!" Betty giggled, scrambling onto the sofa to sit next to Jamie as he opened the present.

Jamie laughed and slowly undid the wrapping paper, watching Betty's face morph into one of impatience.

"Uncle Jamie!" She gave him The Look and Jamie knew he was screwed.

"Okay, okay." He chuckled and undid the rest of the paper, letting the present fall out into his hands.

It was a toy polar bear, not unlike one he'd gotten Betty after seeing it in the shop one weekend.

The bear was easily the size of his open palms, with plastic eyes and a stitched nose and mouth.

"Mummy said your fav'rite animal was the pol'r bear, and I like to cuddle with my fav'rite animals and cuddles are always good!" The five-year-old announced.

Jamie laughed. "They are." He agreed, holding an arm out for her to return to her favourite spot on his lap, snuggling into his abdomen, wary of his injury.

The jumper did a good job of hiding the bulky bandages, but get close enough and you could still feel them.

It still hurt from time to time, as all injuries do, but it was healing nicely and the doctor was pretty certain the bandages would be off for good come January, as long as it didn't get infected.

Sarah smiled at the two over her mug of coffee as Betty excitedly opened the colouring book Jamie had gotten her- one full of animals and landscapes- and flipped it to a page with a polar bear and started colouring the page in, using Jamie’s legs as a table.

John was already engrossed in the book Jamie had given him- _The Thursday Murder Club_ \- and was already halfway through it. Sarah was sure he’d be finished by lunchtime.

Sarah ran her hands over her own present from Jamie- a beautiful purple leather-bound notebook with her name on the front, embossed in gold.

John had gotten her a fountain pen- a proper one- in a set with different inks of many different colours. She couldn’t wait to try them all.

Jamie was reading the blurb of _De ontdekking van de hemel_ , one of the books John and Sarah had gotten him.   
  


He had made the mistake of mentioning he knew Dutch, which had lead to Betty begging for Dutch lessons. 

John and Sarah encouraged it.

Hence, his weekends were often spent teaching Betty simple Dutch words and phrases, slowly building up her vocabulary.

The four sat in relative silence with only the turning of a page or the scratching of a pencil filling the serenity before Sarah got up to start making Christmas lunch.

Jamie managed to convince Betty to let him up so he could help Sarah with the food, Betty going over to show John her colouring-in.

The pair practically danced around the kitchen, peeling and chopping vegetables, putting the turkey, Yorkshire Puddings and pigs-in-blankets in the oven, making the gravy and stuffing.

Lunch was virtually chaos, but the good kind, where everyone was having fun.   
Crackers were pulled and Betty, in true Betty form, slapped the cracker hat on Jamie’s head, laughing all the while.

Jamie started clearing away the plates, John swatted at him.

“Leave those, I’ll do them. You sit down.” He took the plates from Jamie’s grasp and took them out into the kitchen.

Suddenly, the dining-room lights were turned off, plunging the room into semi-darkness and making Betty giggle.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Jamie, happy birthday to youuuuuuuu!”

Jamie’s head snapped towards the door, John and Sarah walking into the dining-room from the kitchen, Sarah holding a cake, lit up by candles.

She put the cake down in front of Jamie, grinning like a little kid. 

The _actual_ little kid had somehow climbed onto Jamie’s lap during the song, still giggling and clapping her hands.

Jamie blinked, looking down at the cake, barely making out some figures through the candle flames.

He hadn’t had a birthday cake in so long, not since his first birthday after his parents were sent to jail.

They’d stopped after Phillip went to university.

Betty tugged on his sleeve, bringing him back to reality. 

He looked down at Betty with a smile.

“Want to help me blow out these candles?”

Betty nodded so fast Jamie thought her head was going to fall off.

He laughed. “Okay, ready? 3, 2, 1-”

They blew the candles out, Betty more so as Jamie dissolved into laughter mid-way through.

With the candles out and the lights on, Jamie could see the cake properly, and immediately burst out laughing.

It was polar bears, of course. Mini marzipan polar bears on white icing moulded to mimic snow and a pool made from blue icing.

“How did you know it was my birthday?” He asked, shifting Betty so she wasn’t putting all her weight on one leg.

John looked sheepish. “I checked the records, we thought you deserved a proper birthday.”

Tears filled Jamie's eyes and spilt down his cheeks.

Betty frowned and raised her hands to wipe the tears away.

“Why are you crwying?” She asked, pressing her palms to Jamie’s cheeks.

Jamie let out a watery laugh. “I’m just really happy.”

Betty wrapped her arms around Jamie’s neck, burying her face in his neck.

Sarah pulled Jamie up and into a hug, John joining in.

For the first time in ages, Jamie felt like he truly _belonged_.

“There’s another thing for you, Jamie.” Sarah smiled as the family unfurled from the hug.

Jamie blinked. “For me?”

“It is your birthday.” John nodded. He looked down at Betty. “Do you want to show Uncle Jamie his birthday present?”

Betty nodded and jumped down from Jamie’s lap, grabbing his hand and pulling him outside to the garden.

Jamie’s jaw dropped. 

There, on the patio, stood a telescope.

Not a shitty one like he had as a child, or the one he’d bought with his first proper paycheck as a police officer in London. No, a refractor telescope, one that could easily see Jupiter, maybe even Pluto.

One where he could properly see the stars on a dark night.

Betty dragged him over to the telescope, her grin practically splitting her face in half.

“I- I don’t know what to say.” Jamie stuttered, staring at the piece of kit in from of him.

‘ _How much did it cost?_ ’ He couldn’t help but wonder.

“You seem to have a knack for getting Betty into things, she loved the astronomy lesson you gave her the last time she was round yours, came home rattling off space facts.”

Jamie laughed, remembering the night he’d sat with Betty in his back garden and showed her his telescope. 

They’d spent the rest of the evening looking at constellations, stars and planets, Betty sharing in Jamie’s fascination of astrology.

“...so she suggested getting you a new one.” Jamie just caught the end of John’s sentence.

He looked from a still-grinning Betty to John and Sarah, mouth still agape.

“I- thank you, Sir.”

“John.” John smiled. “You’re family, Jamie.”

Jamie smiled, but before he could say anything, Betty was dragging him to the telescope, chatting eagerly about stars and space.

Jamie laughed and let her help him set up the telescope.

And so their Christmas day ended with the family, biological or not, sitting on the grass of the Barnabys’ back garden, looking up at the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it.
> 
> Like I said, it's been one hell of a ride, and we barely scratched the surface of what Jamie's childhood could've been like.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting/kudo-ing. It means so much to me!
> 
> A massive thank you to @midsomer4life for being my test reader and for screaming down my WhatsApp at 5am, demanding I continue where I left off. Thank you so much hun!
> 
> So, for the last time, thank so much for reading, and I hope to see you in the next story! 
> 
> Bye!

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my Tumblr (@Neptunium134) for updates, and my very good friend @midsomer4life does amazing incorrect Midsomer quotes, if you ever want a laugh


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